Gotta Have Faith
by TheIronBat
Summary: Betty Hogan is a retired hunter, until Apocalypse Number Two starts up. Now she has to try and keep up smalltown appearances, manage a flower shop, and babysit the devil who keeps trying to think up ways to kill her. There goes her peaceful retirement.
1. They're Coming

**TIB: **This is a side story of _A Spoonful Of Grace_. The characters in this story will make appearances in ASOG, but this story will better detail their lives to you'll know a bit more about them when they do show up. Lucifer will be in this story, just not this chapter, so that's something to look forward to.

Since this is a side story, I'll be putting a little something extra in the Chapter Title thing down below. I'll put which chapter in ASOG you should have read up to before reading a particular chapter of this story. For example: for chapter one, you should have read up to Chapter 23 of the main story for it to make any sense. If anyone gets confused, please let me know!

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**Chapter One  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 23]**_

**They're Coming**

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**BETTY**

"Always a pleasure, Mrs. Johnson." As soon as the door closed behind the old woman's wrinkly ass, Betty Hogan fell to her knees and looked down at the way her fingers spread over the tiled floor. She was breathing like a bull preparing to charge, and a piece of brown hair was tickling her nose as it swayed. She can fight this. She can. She put this part of her life behind her, and she's normal now. She lives in a small town, she walks around her front yard in her bare feet, she owns a flower shop, and she's a normal fucking person goddammit!

"I'm done dealin' with your bullshit! Do ya hear me, _Father?!_ I. AM. RETIRED!"

Just to prove her wrong, a pulse moved through her skull so hard that her forehead bounced off the counter in front of her and she slumped to the side. It was still moving through her mind, trying to break down the walls that she worked so hard on building, and it burns. Burns like a wildfire made out of ice, and she's getting blood in her eyes and in her hair. It's gonna ruin her pretty dress, and hasn't she done enough? Hasn't she seen enough? Killed enough? Saved enough? All she wanted was to live a quiet life and die peacefully. No more washing blood off her hands after receiving messages that tore her temples apart and tap danced across her gray matter.

"You can't make me." Her throaty voice was even thicker than usual as she stared unseeing up at the ceiling, and that pounding in her skull only got louder. She can't fight it forever. She can already feel blood from her nose tickling her upper lip. Her ears will bleed next. Maybe her eyes. Best to get it over with. Just let it end. One little look and that's it.

_Creatures in the streets. People running, screaming, dying. The world isn't gonna end in fire or ice. It's gonna end in blood. _

_They're fighting. They're fighting so hard, but it won't be enough. One little hunter goes down. Two hunting gods get ripped apart. No angels left to save you now. _

_Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. They're wearing your little girl and ripping your heart out, and there's no one left to save us now. _

_Her hair is red and she wears her heart on her wrist. She must be there to warn them, to get their attention, and placed somewhere safe. Has to be kept safe, until she's needed. They will save her, but she's gotta get to them first. This is where you come in, Betty Fay, you gotta get her there. Drive her right into their path. Gotta leave now if you're gonna make it in time. Go now. Go!_

"Fuck!" Her heart was trying to beat its way past her ribcage, and the blood in her temples was dancing to an eclectic beat that made her want to shoot something. She really hates the whole Apocalypse thing. Can't the world end without ruining her week?

Her legs were shaky as she pulled herself to her feet, but she managed to stumble her way into the bathroom. It was small, but it's got a sink and a mirror. Half of her face is covered in blood, and she won't make it three steps out the shop's door without someone stopping her. They'll ask her if she's okay, what happened, does she need a ride to the hospital…yeah, she doesn't have time for smalltown niceties. And it's not like she can tell the good people of Justice, Wyoming that this little bit of blood ranks really small on her list of injuries. You haven't hit the big times until you can see your own insides and then have to stitch yourself back together. Luckily for her, she was friends with a nice little demon that healed her all up when she decided it was time for her to kick her feet up. Of course, she still killed him once she was all sparkly again, but he should have seen it coming.

She got most of the blood off, and the small cut on her head wasn't bleeding quite as bad. She has a first aid kit here in the shop, but it doesn't have a bandage big enough for her head wound. She'll have to take care of it at the house. No one stopped her as she locked up the shop and hurried to her Jeep, and she quickly pulled herself up into the big vehicle and pulled off. She doesn't live in town in one of the little suburbs, because she likes her privacy, but she does still live within town limits. The place she calls home is on a smooth dirt road off the main road leading into town, and the only other person who lives down this stretch of dirt is an elderly couple and their even older cow. No one bothers her out here, so she doesn't have to worry about anyone hearing her cussing up a storm as the Jeep bounces its way up the driveway.

A big furry head butted against her thigh as soon as she was out of the Jeep, and she reached down to scratch behind a floppy ear. The big fuzz ball could probably smell the blood still stuck to her skin, and he's the protective type. He trotted faithfully by her side as she moved up the front steps and into the house, and she paused for a moment to just take a look around. This house seemed like a gift for all the shit she'd put up with since birth. This house was her reward for getting out. It was two floors and had a very open floor plan. Hardly any walls to speak of, large windows nearly all the way around to let in some natural light, and the steps leading to her bedroom looked like a wooden ladder. It's more like a loft, really. If she tips her head back enough, she can see her bed over the kitchen. This is her home, and she's happy here. She doesn't want to go out and do some absent asshole's bidding, but she has to. End of the world shit.

"Come on, Lazarus. Mama's gotta make a basement trip." The big St. Bernard whined quietly at the B-word but followed after her anyway. The basement door is in the kitchen and hidden by her giant refrigerator, which is a hideous shade of yellow but it grew on her. Once she managed to get the fridge out of the way, she punched in a key code where the door knob should have been and finally slipped inside. The basement is the exact opposite of the rest of the house. It's completely closed in, dark, and cold. Not cold in the physical sense, it's a little balmy actually, but she still gets a shiver whenever she walks down the metal stairs.

Symbols painted in her own blood are everywhere. Anti-demon, anti-angel, anti-everything. She's even got wards against the more cuddly supernatural creatures, because she's learned not to trust anything. There's no books downstairs. There's a single computer with all of her research on it, and it's password protected and will blow up if the wrong password is entered. If something happens to the computer here, she's got six spares hidden all over the country and one more in Switzerland. She used to have one in Nepal too, but there was a Yeti incident and that one's gone now. The room is far from bare though. There's a small bed with crisp white sheets and an open bathroom stocked with everything from Band-Aids to sterilized sewing needles. Then there's the weapons. It's like a small arsenal.

"Don't look at me like that, boy. It's not like I want to be here." The big dog was sitting on the last stair and just looking at her, and Betty shrugged as she walked over to the bathroom. She doesn't have time to stand around and let her dog judge her. He can do that when she gets back. First things first, cleaning the cut on her head and putting an actual bandage on it before it starts up bleeding again. Head wounds are so fussy.

Elizabeth Faith Hogan's first memory isn't even her own. She thinks she was three, and she saw a man with black eyes laughing as he set another man on fire. She screamed and cried, and her mother just shushed her and told her everything would be okay. A few days later, after a nice little road trip, she was dumped off on some church steps and never saw her parents again. (She had a big brother, she thinks, but she hasn't seen him since then either.) The church had its own orphanage, and she was shuffled in. She wasn't even in the same state she'd been born in. When she started screaming about a lady with sharp teeth eating a boy's heart, one of the nuns took her away from the orphanage. She was then given to Josephine, a witch and a hunter, and the real nightmare began.

Psychic. There's movies and TV shows about it, songs and poems, and it's all a load of bullshit. Betty Fay, as Josie used to call her, is a true blue psychic. She can see the past, the present, and the future. She can talk to the dead and took to witchcraft like a fish to water, and she's damn deadly with a gun in her hand. Josie used to say that she was born to be a hunter; killing the supernatural was her destiny. Betty's not so sure about that, but it didn't stop her from hunting. Josie used to say that the visions were a gift from God, so that's who Betty railed at when Josie died and left her in this fucked up world alone. For years, she'd get a vision and do what needed to be done. There's not much that she hasn't killed, and she hates it all. Hates the pain and suffering, the tears and begging, the cries and apologies. Six years ago, at the ripe age of twenty-six, she gave it up.

Her last vision was of a little boy. A beautiful little thing with big eyes and a crooked smile. According to her vision, he was gonna grow up to become one of the world's most renowned serial killers. He wouldn't be caught until he was in his sixties, and by that point ninety-three lives would have been ended by his hands. (Horrible, gruesome deaths, because sometimes humans are the monsters.) The little boy had to die, and she was gonna be the one to do it. He'd only been six when she found him, sitting in a nicely kept park at dusk. His mother was down the street on her knees, and the little boy knew to stay on the swings until she got back. Looking at him then, with his soft brown curls, it was hard to picture him killing anyone. (But she'd seen the broken bodies, heard the screams as they cried for help.) He let her hold him in her lap as she swung slowly, and he had one round cheek pressed against the top of her chest when she slipped the needle into his neck. He died quickly and silently, and Betty spent the next two weeks in a drunken stupor.

Once she sobered up, she decided that she'd had enough. No more visions. No more killing to save lives. She was done. She tracked down a demon that owed her a favor, got all of her skin scrubbed clean of all the scars that would raise questions, and killed one last demon. (He might've owed her a favor, but he still killed a hunting party of five. Tit for tat and all of that.) All of her scars were gone, and she felt washed clean. Of course, she still had invisible tattoos inked into the skin of her back. Protection symbols to keep away all things harmful, and they only showed up under the right kinds of light. Her entire house is covered in similar symbols; they're carved into the wood and painted over, so that they can't be seen but can still be useful. She's retired, not stupid. Then she built the wall. A thick heavy wall inside of her mind to keep out all unwanted visions, and it's held up for the past six years without fail. Until now.

Blood free and pissed off at the world, she stalked back into the main part of the basement and stripped off her dress. Her sandals were kicked to the side, and she stared down into her trunk of clothes. Hunting clothes. Thick tight-fitting clothes that she could move easily in and dark colors to hide the blood stains. She hasn't missed the hunting attire; she's gotten used to her pretty sundresses, but you can't intimidate someone in a dress. She yanked on black cargo pants, a white tank top, and pushed her feet into heavy black boots. She'll take a black jacket with her to put on later. This isn't a hunting trip, so she doesn't need a lot of weapons, but a few knives and guns never hurt anyone. It's nice to be prepared. Once she was loaded down and ready to go, she turned around to sit on the small bed and smiled over at Lazarus.

"Six years is a good run, buddy, so don't give me that look. I'm lucky I made it this long." Her rough voice sounded thick, but she wasn't going to cry. She gave up crying over the visions and the unwanted thoughts a very long time ago. Besides, she's got a job to do. "Winchesters, huh? I haven't had a vision about them since I was thirteen. They saved the world, Laz, just like I saw. I guess they're gonna need a little more help this time around."

She pulled out her usual cell phone and called her shop assistant, Mimi. She's sixteen and mad at the world, and Betty loves the kid. She can run the register at the shop when Betty's working with the flowers and she does most of the deliveries, and Betty has known the kid since she was eleven and used to come into the shop just to poke the flowers. Betty can trust the kid to keep an eye on her flowers and to come feed Lazarus while she's gone for a couple of days. Once the call was over, Betty squatted down to hug Laz and told him she'd be home soon. She's not sure if the dog can actually understand her, but he's smart for being such a big fluff ball.

There's no way she's taking her precious Jeep on this road trip, so it's gotta be the SUV that she keeps hidden in the barn. It's perfect for hunts. Hidden compartments for weapons and a wide open space in the back that's just right for a body. Or parts of one. She doesn't take it out very often, because it's black and the dark tint shuts out everything around her. These days, she prefers the Jeep where she can let the wind in and feel the sun on her skin. Now's not the time to be thinking about that though. She's got a job to do.

**.xXx.**

The neon sign above the comic book store was cute; it was probably even cuter when it was lit up. Right now, the sun is just starting to hit the horizon and the store won't open for a few more hours. The girl she's looking for couldn't sleep so she came into work early, and she's the only one inside. Betty would be able to see if there was anyone else inside. She zipped her jacket up the rest of the way, pulled her cap on and tucked all her hair in, and made her way to the front door. It's a small store in a small town, nothing bad happens here, and the door is unlocked. Of course it is. Betty stepped inside, locked the door behind her, and closed all the blinds just to be on the safe side. She's gotta find the girl and give the poor thing a vision that she hasn't even seen yet. They'll get to see it together.

There was shuffling coming from the back of the store, and Betty's heavy boots didn't make a sound as she weaved through shelves to get to the back. Once she found the girl, she just stood still and watched her. Long red hair swayed just over a strip of pale skin on the girl's waist; her shirt must have ridden up from all the dancing. The girl's whole body was in motion as she moved to the music coming through her earphones, and Betty tracked the movement of the girl's arms as they raised in the air. On her right wrist was a small dark red birthmark, in the shape of a tiny little heart. _She wears her heart on her wrist._

Betty's gloved hand grabbed the back of the girl's neck, and she pushed the girl up against a bookshelf as gently as she could. The girl bucked and tried to twist away, and Betty pressed herself against the length of the girl's body to hold her still. Her legs trapped the other girl's, and she squeezed her fingers the tiniest bit. The girl's going to have a bruise, but that can't be helped. With her other hand, Betty reached up and pulled out the earphones. The girl stopped struggling, and Betty listened to her quick breathing.

"Please, don't hurt me. There's cash in the register. Not much, but it's all yours, just don't hurt me," the girl babbled quietly.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I have a message for the Winchesters."

"The who now?" No time to explain. Her instructions were clear. Deliver the message, make sure it gets delivered, and get out.

"What's your name, kid?" Several different names swirled in the girl's brain, and Betty looked at them all. Maybe this girl isn't so normal after all. Good. That should help.

"Charlie."

"I'm really sorry about this, Charlie."

"Sorry about wha—" The girl's adrenaline had been pumping so much that she never even felt the needle in her exposed hip, and Betty carefully picked her up. The streets were still empty when they got outside, and Betty gently placed the girl in the backseat of the SUV. Just to be safe, she wrapped a blindfold around the girl's eyes and started driving.

**.xXx.**

Six hours later, Betty was parked in some trees and staring at a strip of highway in the middle of nowhere. Soon, a black car will come around a curve and start down this stretch of empty road. Betty's gotta be ready for it, and so does Charlie. Right on schedule, the redhead started stirring. Betty didn't wait for her to get her bearings, she just pulled her out of the backseat and walked her to the front of the vehicle. The blindfold was still in place, which will make all of this easier. The girl was still sluggish from the knockout drug, but she was starting to shake. Betty hates scaring people, but this is necessary. She's got a message to deliver.

"Are you going to kill me? Because I'm really not worth the potential prison time," Charlie said quickly.

"I'm not going to kill you. Just hold still and don't fight it, okay?" The girl whined and tensed up, like she was preparing for a killing blow, and Betty thought for a moment that killing her might be the nice thing to do. This girl is getting thrown into a situation that can't possibly end peacefully, but she has to do this.

Betty pressed gloved hands against the girl's flushed cheeks and leaned forward just enough to touch their foreheads together. Then she let the vision that was scratching at her mind out.

_He's tall and handsome, and there's a raging fire in his eyes that contrasts his calm face. The women standing at his sides are madness in the truest sense of the word. Red hair, dark hair, death in their eyes. They are here to destroy and ruin. The three are standing in the house that the brother's built, and they are finally making their move. No more waiting in the shadows. No more hiding behind demons. The walls are painted in red and the floor is made of bone. _

_They're coming! They're coming! They're coming!_

Betty pulled out of the vision with a full body shudder, but she stayed close to Charlie. She can feel the girl shivering against her as her mind tries to accept what it's just seen, and it's a lot to take in. To Betty, the whole scene makes perfect sense. To Charlie, who's never had to deal with visions, it's probably nothing but riddles. Except for the last part. That's pretty clear, because they're coming. The Winchesters will know who Charlie is talking about, so there's no point in explaining. She's got one last thing to do now before sending the girl on her way. Betty tightened her hold and spoke quietly, and she felt her mind flexing out muscles that have grown slack with disuse.

"You won't remember the car ride or anything about me. Someone grabbed you from work and then you were in the woods. All you know is that you must find the Winchesters and give them the message. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered. The car is coming any second now.

"Go!" Betty ripped off the blindfold, and Charlie immediately moved out of the tree line. Betty held herself in the shadow of a grouping of trees so she could watch Charlie stagger into the road. There was a loud squeal as rubber was torn off by asphalt, and Betty watched the way that the car slid to a stop right in front of the shaking redhead. A man moved from the driver's seat in one fluid motion and stalked towards the girl, and Betty saw Charlie's lips forming the word "Winchester." The man, who Betty knows is Dean Winchester from long ago visions, tensed up and glared at the girl. Dean won't kill Charlie. He'll save her.

"Cas!" Another man appeared at Dean's side, an angel if the light is anything to go by, and Betty knows this angel too. Castiel. He helped the Winchesters end the last Apocalypse, and it looks like he's along for the ride this time too. Charlie kept repeating a single phrase and then the stress of it all finally hit her. Her body started to fall, and Dean quickly moved forward to grab her. He easily lifted her up into his arms and held her close to his body, and he spent the next couple of minutes talking to the angel. They finally reached a decision, and Dean walked the girl over to his car and placed her in the backseat.

Betty stuck around until the car was out of sight, and she slumped against a tree. Elijah, Abaddon, and Eve were all free. She had dreams about them when she was little, and they always scared her. Abaddon is blood and chaos all packed into a meat suit and just waiting for a chance to let go. Eve was driven insane by the darkness, until she let it in and brought her nightmares to life. As for Elijah, he's pissed. He wants his son back, the Nephilim, Simon. Betty remembers Simon too. A beautiful child that they kept trying to kill, until he eventually became the monster that the angels wanted him to be. What are they planning though? What's happening?

Not that it matters. Betty has done her part, and she's going home now. If the world ends, it'll end while she's none the wiser, just like everyone else. As of right now, she's retired. Again.

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**Finis:** I really love Betty's character. She's a psychic and ex-hunter, but now she owns a flower shop and has a big dog. I've got a lot of ideas planned for this story, even though it's just a side story, so I hope you like it!


	2. It's The Lake

**TIB: **I know it's been a while since I've updated this, because I had to wait for the main story to sync up, but I'm still gonna reply to the three reviews. Because I love reviews and reviewers, so here goes!

**Treeni: **Thank you for the review! I'm really excited about writing this story, so I hope you continue reading.

**EmmaMarie: **Charlie is definitely going to be a big part of the main story, when the right time comes. This story will give more glimpses and hints about how than the main story though. I am so insanely excited about writing for Lucifer; it's going to be a blast. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

**Guest:** Thank you for the review! Yes, I'll be writing on this story a lot more now that everything is synced up right. (I'm guessing you've read ASOG, so make sure you read Chapter 31 before reading this chapter.) Thank you so much! I try really hard to make my OCs relatable, and somewhat likable, so I'm glad they don't make you crazy.

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**Chapter Two  
_[ASOG: Chapter 31]_  
****It's The Lake**

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_They're holding him down, and Sam is digging his hands into his intestines. It's not the Sam he left topside, but it's still the Sam that he sold his soul for. This Sam is four years old, soft brown hair curling past his ears and shining hazel eyes that watch Dean's every move. The little boy laughs and shows Dean what he's found, and green eyes run over the slick ropes of his guts. Sam looks so proud, and Dean just smiles at him. He's lying on his rack, but there's nothing holding him here. He could move if he wanted to. He could pick up the little boy with Sam's face and throw him across the room, bash his skull in, but what's the point? It's not Sam, and he knows that, but he still can't hurt him. Can't hurt the boy with his brother's eyes and smile. Could never hurt Sammy. _

_When they take Sam away, chains made from rusty nails wrap around his body and hold him to the table. The little boy screaming in the demon's arms isn't his Sam, but Dean can't look away from the kid's waving red hands and too long hair. The little boy screams like Sam did with his worst nightmares as the demons tear him apart, and Dean fights to get free. He manages to rip one of his arms off in his struggle as demons violate his little brother in ways that he never wanted to see (but it's not Sam). Then Sam, his Sam, is standing in the little boy's place. Sam is screaming for him, begging to be saved, but Dean can't save him. He'll never be able to save Sammy again. _

Betty woke up with a soundless scream and the image of sick perversions painted across her eyelids. She managed to stumble to the toilet just in time to puke up last night's dinner, and she tried to use the flushing toilet to drown out the sound of Dean Winchester's desperate screams. It didn't work, it never did, but she can at least say she tried. Once all of the spaghetti was flushed away, she slumped against the tub and stared across the open space to her bedroom. She doesn't like being closed in; she likes all of the openness in her home. She likes being able to see everything.

Fucking fuck! This wasn't supposed to keep happening. For six years, she kept the visions out. When she laid down to sleep, she didn't dream. Now, ever since that vision about the upcoming Apocalypse, she's been having visions every night. It's only been three nights since she kidnapped a young redhead and left her for the Winchesters to find (_her name is Charlie_), but that's still three visions too many. The worst part? She's had these visions before. She dreamed of the Righteous Man being tortured in Hell when she was thirteen, and she's never been able to forget the manic glint in the man's eyes as they tortured him into insanity. She knows what no one else knows; she knows just how they got Dean Winchester to break in only thirty years, and those thoughts are enough to drive her nearly insane.

She's not going to think about Dean Winchester right now. He got out of the Pit, was rescued by an angel, and stopped the last Apocalypse. Betty has better things to do today than pity a man who is far too strong for something like pity. (Dean Winchester has her undying respect, because he survived.) She's going to shower, fix some breakfast, and enjoy her day off. Maybe she'll take Laz out for a long walk and go lay in the field outback. That always mellows her out. Laz needs a good walk too. He's getting pretty hefty, and she wants him to stay healthy.

Thirty minutes later, Betty walked down the stairs that led up to her bedroom loft in her bare feet and a pretty mint green sundress. Lazarus's big furry head butted against her thigh as she stood in front of the stove, and she absently reached down to scratch behind an ear as she scrambled her eggs. Lazarus is a good dog, even if he is huge. He's a giant teddy bear and loves her, and that's all she really needs. Laz's head rested on her thigh as she ate at the kitchen table, and he dutifully trotted by her side when she slipped out the back door. No shoes got between her toes and the short grass, and she felt the first bit of relief for the first time in three days. She really needed this day off.

"Did I ever tell you why I picked this place, Laz?"

"Rrrr-wuff!" She'll take that as a no. They walked farther into the backyard, past the barn, and out into the field beyond. They broke through the small tree line, and Betty eased herself down into the grass next to the lake. There's a deck leading out over the water, with a small boat on it if she wants to go out into the water, but she prefers sitting on the grass. Makes her feel closer to nature or some shit like that.

"It's the lake. The house was perfect, but it was the lake that really did it for me. Do you know why lakes are so important?" Her rough voice was quiet as she looked out over the water, and she let her eyes trace the way that the sun lit up the dark water.

"Grr…ruff." Lazarus doesn't know much today. That's okay, she doesn't mind answering for him.

"Sometimes I need to escape. When I was little, I couldn't control all the visions. Josie used to bring me out to rivers, ponds, and lakes when I'd refuse to sleep. There was something about the water that calmed me, centered me, and kept me from going completely batshit. The house was perfect and everything I've ever wanted, but the lake was what I needed. It's nice, isn't it?"

Lazarus ran straight into the lake to chase the small fish in place of an answer, and Betty leaned back on her hands to watch to watch him wobble through the water. He's too big and furry to swim properly, but he looks so happy that Betty can't call him back. Laz can take care of himself. Betty spread her legs and wiggled her toes, and she tipped her head back so she could feel the hot sun on her face. She just needs to relax and build her wall back up. Kidnapping an innocent girl, forcing a vision on that innocent girl, and using witchcraft took too much out of her. She has to rebuild her strength and put a stop to these visions. She's done with seeing the past, seeing the present, and seeing the future. She's retired.

**.xXx.**

_The hunter's name is Emmaline Grace Motley. Emma, Ems, Gracie…sugar bear. She's roasting on the rack and can't remember her little sister's name, the little sister that she sold her soul for. She knows the names of the demons that torture her. Eligos, Marius, Penelope, Henry, Amelia, Josiah, Meg…Asmodeus tortures her with the way that he pretends to care; Crowley tortures her by watching as she's torn apart and being a constant reminder of why she's here. Like she could ever forget? They come at her with claws and hooks, and the little hunter is so tired. She just wants it to end, but it can't. She can't get off the rack. She needs to stay on the rack. (But for how long?)_

_The archangel's name is Gabriel. The Trickster, Loki, god…soulmate. He's locked so deep inside of a human soul that no one can hear his screams. He calls out for his big brother, Michael, who he knows will never forgive him. He ran from Heaven, hid from his brothers and sisters, and became a god of his own. Michael won't save him; he'll leave Gabriel in the Pit to be tortured for the rest of eternity. He calls out to the human that he's become a part of, and sometimes he retreats from the never ending pain and into the tangled mess of the hunter's memories. He sees her childhood home and finds comfort in it as his bones are removed one by one; he sees her brown eyes shining with laughter as she sits between two siblings and barely feels it this time when they pull his spine out through his throat; he sees the open desert sky with his back pressed against the top of a van and feels peace as another demon hangs him from the ceiling and watches his blood coat the room. _

_They are scared of Hell. Neither will admit it, but they are. They are scared of losing limbs and tasting organs, they are scared of empty eyes and greedy hands, and they are scared of being left open and exposed. Hell is their greatest fear, but not for themselves. Emma is terrified of Gabriel being locked inside of her as demons tear her apart and not being able to hear him; Gabriel is terrified of being forced to watch Emma get torn apart and not having the strength to do anything. Their fear is for one another, which makes them both stronger and weaker. They will risk this fear, this overwhelming and choking fear, to save Sam. Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood, does not belong in Hell. To Emma, he's the big brother she always wanted. Sam holds her when she cries and lets her braid his hair even though Dean embarrasses him for it. (It's the little things that mean so much.) To Gabriel, he's the first human in centuries to surprise him. Sam fought against his destiny because it was the right thing to do and talks to him like they're equals. (They're not equals because the human is so much better.)_

_They will go to Hell. They will breathe in the thick scent of sulfur and blood, and they will endure the deafening sound of screams and their pounding heart. Together, they will fight against the demons that ripped them apart and broke them down into nothing. For Sam. _

"No! Stop!" Betty's knees cracked as she rolled off the bed, and her fingers scrambled against the hardwood floor. Her head is pounding with the weight of a decision that she doesn't have to make. (_They don't have to make one either, because the answer is obvious._) Her heart is racing with a fear that isn't hers, and she claps one hand over the other so that she can feel the rough pull of bones under her skin. Her forehead pressed against the floor as a shiver rolled through her, and she was pulled back under.

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_**samsamsam**_

_It's the only thing he can hear. Just his brother's name roaring through his ears, over and over again. He can barely hear the others over the tidal wave of his brother. Has to strain to hear Emma's soft voice, tries to use Cas's rougher voice to cancel out the screams in his own mind, and focuses on all the new voices in an attempt to make it stop. It doesn't. He remembers Hell. How could he ever forget? Most of the torture was physical, where they ripped him apart and broke him in ways that he never thought he'd heal from. It wasn't always physical. They forced baby heart's down his throat and showed him all of his many fuckups. All of the jobs he messed up, the ones that ended with innocent people dead and him still walking around. Brought Dad in, sometimes just to remind him of how much of a disappointment he was and sometimes to help carve him up. He could handle those…but they knew Sam was his biggest weakness. He sold his soul for his little brother, didn't he? _

_He can't let Sam go through what the demons showed him. He knows it wasn't really Sam, he _knows_ that. But it was Sam's voice that screamed and begged, Sam's eyes that pleaded with him before going dead, and Sam's body that was ripped apart. He can't leave Sam in Hell. Just a few days is bad enough. Cas and Bobby tell him to be patient, but how can he be patient when it's Sam that's being tortured? Emma tells him that they'll get him out and everything will be okay, but Sam will never be the same. So what if it's only a few days? Sam is so good, has always been the good kid, and he doesn't belong in Hell. _

_Dean will let Michael in. He'd let the archangel ride his ass and torch the entire planet if it got Sam out of the Pit. He knows it's wrong, but he doesn't care. There's nothing he wouldn't do for his little brother, and that includes doing the one thing he swore to himself he'd never do. Losing control of himself is one of his greatest fears, but it's not at the top. Sam is his greatest fear. _

"No more. Just, stop it already. I don't want this anymore. I don't want this anymore."

_One day. Eighty-five days. Ten years. Forty-nine years. Seventy-six years. One hundred and twelve years. _

"_Do you know how long it's been topside, Sam?" Abaddon is wearing Jess again today, and the sight makes him sick. If he still had an esophagus, he'd been be choking on bile. _

"_No." His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, but Abaddon could hear him. She could always hear him. _

"_It's been three days topside. Each day is fifty years. Most demons can't swing that kind of time stretching, but I'm not most demons. I'm a little special." The demon smiled with Jess's lips; it was the smile that he fell in love with, and he wants to kill her. Wants to tear the smile from her face. _

"_Still coming." The walls all around them are shaking and beginning to crumble, but it's been so long now. So much time has passed. As Abaddon used Jess's soft hands to pull him apart, he went over his life again. It's something he does every day, so he won't forget like Emma did. _

_His name is Samuel Winchester, Sam, and he hates being called Sammy. His father's name was John and his mother's name was Mary. They're both dead; Mary by a demon and John by making a deal for Dean's life. Dean is his big brother…Dean is everything. Dean will save him. The big brother who spent forty years in the Pit, knows too many pop culture references, and fell in love with a dude angel. Dean will save him. Jess was the first woman he ever really loved, but she never really knew him. She was killed by the demon Azazel, and Dean killed Azazel. He is Lucifer's vessel and was given demon blood as a baby, but he's clean now and he'll never say yes to Lucifer again. Bobby Singer is a hunter and was more of a father to him than John ever was; Bobby is blunt and rude, but he loves him. Emma is a little hunter that they adopted after she was freed from Hell; Sam thinks of her as a little sister. Emma is his to comfort and protect, even though she can take care of herself. Gabriel was in her soul while she was in Hell. Gabriel, the archangel who masqueraded as a pagan god, is an asshole and knows just how to get under his skin. Gabriel's eyes are as bright as the sun and he tastes like chocolate. _

_Sam's favorite color is blue. He doesn't like coffee, but he does like hot chocolate. He likes eating healthy but has a secret love for ice cream. The more chocolate the better. He likes Dean's music but gives him shit for it, because that's what little brothers do. He has cried without shame and watched his brother die. He has laughed over nothing and felt peace as he stood in his own home. One time, he saved the world and beat the devil. _

_When Gabriel/Emma came for him, he'd been in the Pit for two hundred and seventeen years. He still knew every scar on his brother's body, could smell the dusty books and whiskey scent of Bobby's house, could hear the sound of Emma's voice as she whispered to him in sleep, and could see the exact shade of Gabriel's eyes. It's been two hundred years, but he still remembers everything. The others will never know how long it has been. Two hundred years means four days topside. Four days topside means eight days in the Pit, without Abaddon's influence. He can't let them know it's been two hundred years. They'll never forgive themselves, and he'll be fine. _

_He still remembers everything. _

Betty came to slumped on her bedroom floor, fresh tears tickling across the bridge of her nose and shakes knocking her legs together. She remembers Dean's torture, saw it ages ago, but everything else is new. It's her first time seeing Emma Motley. She's seen Gabriel in so many different situations, but she's never seen him in Hell. Never felt his fear quite so strongly. She's seen Sam as well, but not like that. So strong and so broken. Two hundred years in the Pit without breaking, it's impressive.

They are supposed to the heroes of this story, but they're all so broken inside. How can they save anyone when they can't even save themselves? Betty knows the answer, of course she does. Separated, they're all useless. Together, they just might be able to pull another win out of their asses. Hopefully, she'll stop seeing it though. She hates waking up on her bedroom floor and choking on tears as she lives through moments that don't belong to her. She just wants to be left alone. Is that really too much to ask?

"Wuff…grr…wuff…ruff!"

"I'm fine, Laz. Go back to sleep." The sun is peaking through the windows, and she has to be at work in a few hours. She's going to forget about everything she just saw. None of it matters to her. It doesn't.

**.xXx.**

"Betty, sweetie, are you feeling okay?" Hazy brown eyes were covered in a slow blink, and Betty smiled down at Mrs. Richardson. The woman was eighty-two and still tended to her own garden, and Betty normally talked to her for at least twenty minutes after ringing her up.

"Didn't sleep well."

"Try some of that chamomile tea. It helps me when my back gets achy," Mrs. Richardson said and patted her hand. Betty spent the next twenty minutes talking about the woman's garden, and she slumped across the counter once the door closed behind her. She should have called in and closed the shop, but she took yesterday off. She is not going to let her _gift_ get in the way of her living her life.

"Psychic powers got you down?" Betty didn't even bother to lift her head at the teasing tone. She knows exactly who it is, because only one person in this town knows just who she is and what she's capable of.

"You don't know the half of it, Mimi," she groaned.

Mimi Ford is a sixteen year old girl that works in a flower shop. She is the only daughter of Tracy and Ken Ford, and Betty first met Mimi when the girl was eleven. She knew right from the start that Mimi wasn't exactly a normal human. The girl's brown eyes were too old for her young face, and Betty was able to catch a small flash of something out of the corner of her eye sometimes. Miriam was an angel that ripped out her grace nearly seventeen years ago and found the dying fetus of Tracy Ford. Mimi is human, but she still has all of her memories of being an angel. It could be because of her pretty heart locket, which holds her grace. Apparently Tracy's father was a hunter that recognized Mimi for what she really was and was able to track down the angel's grace before anyone else could find it. The necklace has been spelled so that it's bound to Mimi's soul and cannot be removed, and Mimi is the closest thing Betty has to a friend.

"Still on an Apocalypse kick? Isn't that over yet?" Betty raised up onto her elbows, and a perfect brow arched as Mimi swept some of her long blonde hair over a shoulder.

"I think we'll know when it's over. Can't you hear anything?" Mimi can hear angel radio, sometimes. The last Apocalypse nearly drove her crazy because she just wanted everyone to shut up, while Betty's mind remained blissfully silent.

"Not a thing. I'm thinking of it as cosmic payback." So now Betty is the one stuck wishing that things would just be quiet. "Seriously, Betty, cut it off. Whatever's going on out there isn't good."

"Thought you couldn't hear anything?"

"Just a feeling," she said with a shrug. Betty looked at the fallen angel for a moment longer and then strode off to water her flowers. She's got a bad feeling about all of this too.

**.xXx.**

_You know what you gotta do, Betty Fay. You gotta do what's right. You've always done what's right. Even if it wasn't easy. Gotta do this, Betty Fay. It's all up to you now. You can kill him or save him. Either way, the world will be better off. Time to go, Betty Fay. You know what you have to do. Kill him. Save him. _

The water lapped at her ankles as she stared up at the night sky. The stars were covered by bright streaks of light as the angels fell, because they're locked out of Heaven. Angels are stuck on Earth, with no wings and limited grace. She can't worry about them now. It will take him longer, because he's got farther to travel, but he'll be here soon. She has to get ready for him. She can't mess this up. If she does, she won't be the only one that dies. Everyone will, and she likes the Earth.

"Is this my big test, Father? My last job? My last failure?"

No answer came to her, but she wasn't really expecting one either. There's a big part of her that wants to fight, to scream, and to refuse to do anything. She dedicated her entire life to doing whatever the visions told her to; she's killed and saved in equal measures, and she's earned her rest. This though…she has to do this. Betty Fay has one last job to do, and it's going to cost her life. Probably.

**.xXx.**

The sun was high in the sky when the man appeared in her backyard. His jeans and shirts were rumpled, like he'd been sleeping in them for a week. His blonde hair was sticking up in some places, and Betty noticed that his wide eyes were the same soft blue as the sky stretched above him. He looked confused, awed, and like he was in pain. His body kept twitching, like he didn't want his back pressed against the ground, but Betty is pretty sure that he doesn't even realize that he's moving. He's just looking up at the sky.

"Hi there, Lucifer." Those blue eyes moved up her body, and the look made her cold.

"Who?" His voice was a wreck. She always pictured the Devil as a smooth talker, but she's had visions of Lucifer before. Watched him burn grace into smoke, tempt humans into the worst sins, and saw the look on his face as his brothers betrayed him and locked him away. She's seen him twist Sam Winchester's mind, looked on as he killed his own little brother, and felt his anger as he was locked away again. And now he's got a sore throat.

Her lips were already moving as she knelt down next to him, and she watched the way that he struggled against the magic pushing on his body. At his full strength, she never would have been able to pull this off. Lucifer spent centuries locked in the Cage, was forced into a weakened vessel while topside, and has just had his wings ripped off while being thrown out of the Cage. He's very weak, for now, which is why she needs to move fast. Once the last syllable fell from her lips, she popped her fingers and smiled down at Satan himself.

"The name's Betty." His eyes rolled back as he fell unconscious, and Betty looked across his still body to the lake. Now it's time for the hard magic.

* * *

**Finis:** Whew! Hopefully, if you're reading this story, you've read _A Spoonful Of Grace_. If you haven't, this chapter was probably very confusing. There are some things in this chapter that haven't been mentioned in the main story but will come up later. For example, Sam's time spent in the Pit with Abaddon. Everyone thinks it was eight days, but it was actually over two hundred. This chapter goes into Dean's Hell time too, but just a little. After this, Lucifer will be in the story full time.

If there's any questions, I'd be happy to answer them!


	3. Dinner?

**TIB: **For anyone who's been reading and wants to know why there's something under the Chapter Number, I've decided to start putting what chapters of ASOG should have been read before reading the current chapter of GHF. Hopefully, it'll keep people from getting confused. If I didn't explain this right and you are confused, please let me know.

**EmmaMarie:** Thank you for the review! Yeah, Sammy is…Sammy is not okay. I'm not sure what chapter it will be when everyone else finds out, but I'm not looking forward to writing it. I'll probably cry. I always cry. I'm really excited about writing this story, because I can really get into the story because this one is just gonna be Lucifer and Betty. I hope you like the way I've written them! And your reviews are always amazing. Even the incomprehensible ones, so thank you again!

* * *

**Chapter Three  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 32]**_

**Dinner?**

* * *

**LUCIFER**

He woke up tied to a small bed in a mostly dark room, with a woman sitting cross-legged on his stomach. She wasn't very big, average height and lean, but the weight made it hard for him to breathe. Something he shouldn't even have to worry about. His arms pulled against his bindings, but the ropes just rubbed his wrists raw and refused to come loose. Even his legs were tied down and wouldn't come free, and there was the woman. Her brown eyes just continued to stare down at him as he struggled, and he thought he saw her lips twitch once or twice. He couldn't tell if it was in laughter or disgust, not that it matters. As soon as he's free, she's dying. The room he was in had cement walls and floors, was covered in protective sigils, and is stocked full of weapons. There's a nice axe on the wall that he wouldn't mind burying into the strange woman's skull.

"Finally give out?" Her voice was rough and plucked at a memory that was lost in the darkness eons ago.

"Let me go now and I just might give you a quick death." His voice was slow and quiet, a promise. The woman laughed, even threw her head back, before clapping her hands against her knees.

"No, you wouldn't. You'd draw it out. Make me really suffer, right?" The light blue dress she was wearing had lace going around the bottom, and the white material brushed against the tops of her knees. He already hates her.

"I will get free, and you will die." She arched an eyebrow at him and then poked the center of his chest.

"Listen, Lu, we've gotta go over the ground rules. You don't think you're here by mistake, are you? Of all the angels that had their wings burned away and were slammed to the Earth, you're the only one that's here. You're the only one that's human." Human? No, that's not possible. He's an _angel_. They can lock him in Hell for another two thousand years, and he'll still be an angel when he's freed.

"I am not—"

"See this?" There was a silver chain around her neck, and she slowly pulled a pendant out from under her dress. At the end of the long chain was a cylindrical piece of metal, looked like iron, and she swung it from side to side a bit.

"So?" He doesn't have time to play games with some idiotic human. Once his grace returns, he'll get free. He'll kill the woman, very slowly, and then go see what's happened.

"This, my new devilish friend, is your grace. I pulled it out myself after I got you unconscious and stuffed it in here. Don't give me that look, because I already know what you're thinking. You'll just kill me and take your grace back, but that's a bad plan. The necklace and this little container have been blood spelled, to my soul. You kill me, this grace goes straight with me to Heaven where you'll never be able to get it. Don't worry, there's an upside."

"An upside." He's not asking. He's trying to contain the rage that's darkening his sight and causing him to push against the ropes again. Blood is making the rough material slick, but the woman hasn't batted an eye. She stole, his _**grace?!**_ No, he won't kill her. He'll keep her alive and make her suffer for an eternity for what she's done to him.

"Stay here with me and be tested. If you pass the tests, you'll get your grace back."

"What tests?" The woman's toes dug down next to his ribs as she shrugged, and he hissed out a snarl at the dull pressure.

"I don't know yet. My job was to find you, de-angel you, and bind you. Not just with ropes either. If you try to wander too far away from me, you'll be in so much pain that you won't even be able to crawl. Me? I'll just feel a little tickle." She smiled at him, wide enough to show shallow dimples in her tanned cheeks, and he moved up far enough to arch his back and snap his teeth in her face. Who does this woman think she is?

"_The name's Betty."_ That's what the woman said, before he passed out. Betty…Betty…Betty…why does he know that name? He spent so many years down in the Cage that some of his knowledge has been lost, but he knows that name. It…tickles.

"Betty Fay. Elizabeth Faith Hogan. God's Favorite Assassin." Her eyes narrowed down at him as she slipped the container holding his grace back under her dress, and he watched her dirty fingernails dance across the bare skin of her legs.

"Is that what I'm known as? I didn't know I was the favorite, but it's got a nice ring to it. I guess the darkness didn't take everything from you." She kept looking into his eyes. No one could hold his stare for very long, but she wouldn't look away. This woman isn't afraid of him.

"I've seen the things you've done, little Betty." He glanced down at her scratched hands and thought of all the people she's killed. So many faces. "How did you get all the blood off?"

"Bleach, mostly. If I let you go, are you going to play nice?" His lips twisted in a smile, and she pressed her palms flat against his chest. He held in his grunt as she pushed herself up so that she was standing next to the bed, and his eyes followed her movements as she untied his feet. He kept his stare locked on the ceiling as she tugged at the bloody ropes above his head, and he took in a slow breath once the ropes fell away.

"Thank you." The woman took a step back from the bed as he rose into a sitting position, and he raised his eyes to hers. She's still just watching him, in curiosity instead of fear.

"Anytime. I made hamburgers if you're hungry." She turned away to start for some stairs, and he lunged off the bed. His hands were reaching for the back of her neck, left vulnerable when she piled her hair on top of her head, but she ducked down and twisted around before he could grab her. The heel of her hand pushed against his stomach, pushed him back, and a single sweep knocked his legs out from under him. The world tilted and spun, and it took him a moment to right himself.

Her thighs were clamped tight around his hips, strong legs were pinning his, knees ground his hands against the cement floor, and hands were locked around his throat. Her face filled his vision; she was so close that he could see the lighter brown flecks in her eyes and the small dusting of freckles across her nose. She smelled like grass, flowers, and a million other things he didn't understand. Her body was completely still as she held him immobilized, and he let himself go slack in her hold. He wasn't going to be able to kill her today. He'll have to wait, gather his strength, and come up with a plan. He now knows how fast she is, how strong she is, and how good her weak instincts are.

"I can see that devious brain of yours churning behind those stolen blue eyes, and I know what you're thinking. You're wrong, Lucifer. I'm faster, stronger, and you have no idea about how good my _human_ instincts are. Kill me, lose your grace, see if I care. Look into my eyes. Really look. Are you looking?"

"Yes." He's never wanted to kill anyone more than he wants to kill this human woman. He wants to sink his teeth into her still bleeding heart and listen to her scream her last breath. Her eyes are brown…and there's nothing in them. No warmth. No hatred. Nothing.

"I have been counting the days to my death. I've been waiting for it since I first saw it when I was six. You can't scare me, Lucifer, because I'm ready to die. Are you?"

"Not as a human." She leaned up and let go of his throat, and her knees pushed against the bones in his hands.

"That's the spirit. We're both stuck in a situation that we hate, so let's just suffer through it with as little bloodshed as possible. Pass all of your Daddy's tests and get your grace back. I won't even fight when you kill me afterwards." She easily moved to her feet and held her hand out, and he let his skin brush against hers. With her strength, it was easy to pull him off the floor. She still had to tilt her head back to look at him.

"I'm going to eat your heart," he said without ever looking away from her.

"I've heard it's one of the easier organs to eat. Not as chewy as some of the others," she said without even blinking.

"Dinner?"

"Right this way."

**BETTY**

Honestly, she's surprised. After she told the devil everything she'd done and then let him free, she expected him to fight tooth and nail to put her down. She's still a little weak from all the witchcraft she cooked up just to keep the archangel both contained and restrained. (Blood spells for containing grace and binding magic to physically keep them together? It's a miracle that she didn't die in the process.) He only came after her once, quietly followed her up the basement stairs to the kitchen, and sat down at the kitchen table like a little gentleman. Well, a six-one gentleman. His shoulders hunched down once he was sitting, like he was trying to make himself look smaller and non-threatening. How stupid does he think she is? If she relaxes just a fraction, he'll smash her face into the grease that she's using to fry up some potato slices. Can't have burgers without home fries and can't have the devil in the house without death threats. Or thoughts in his case. Has he already forgotten that she's psychic?

"So, the gang is back together and no one's dead. Not anymore," Betty finished. She dropped his plate, gently, in front of him and moved back to the counter to grab her own plate. She's barely taken a breath between getting him caught up on all the current events. It's what she's supposed to do. At least, that's what the voices are telling her. To tell him all about what the Winchesters have been up to since he was tossed back into the Cage. That means she's also been talking about Michael, and Castiel, and Gabriel, and the little hunter Emma Motley. Then there's Elijah and Abaddon, who teamed up with Raphael. The once thought peaceful archangel located Metatron, God's Scribe, to confine the angels to the Earth. Eve told him how to get into Purgatory, and now her "children" are running free. So is Simon. So many lives to cover before she can eat.

"They tortured Sam?" Betty's plate was across from Lucifer's, and she set down two glasses of sweet tea. She's gotten a taste for the stuff over the years.

"You mean Abaddon? Yeah, for over two hundred years. His brother and all the others think it was only a week. Sam's tough, but he won't be able to hide that forever." The devil's knuckles were white against his glass, and Betty hoped that he wouldn't break it. She's not in the mood to clean up broken glass, or to stitch up a very human archangel.

"She'll pay for that. Once I'm free." The glass was set back down on the table, and Betty picked up her burger. It smelled delicious, fresh, but she's got a question to ask first. She doesn't have the answers to everything, after all.

"I thought you'd be happy. She did it for you, you know. To get Sam ready to say yes."

"I never wanted Sam tortured."

"Not physically. Mentally? That kid's still messed up." She finally took a big bite and completely ignored Lucifer's murderous look. She's got a feeling that she'll be seeing a lot of that particular look, so she's just gonna ignore it and focus on the good things. Like her burger.

"I did what I had to." Since her mouth was stuffed full, Betty rolled her eyes. Lucifer's hot glare turned icy, and she locked eyes with him as she slowly chewed. She's gonna show the devil that she's not afraid of him. Never has been and never will be. After several long moments of her chewing, she swallowed and used a napkin to dab at her lips.

"You did what you wanted to. You wanted to take your vessel, by any means necessary, and you wanted to destroy him while you destroyed Michael. You can't lie to me, Luci."

"My name is—"

"Lucifer, the archangel, the Morningstar. The Bringer of Light and Evil. Father of Demons and Sin. Want me to keep going?" He leaned forward and placed his elbows on either side of his plate, and his lips smiled while his eyes tried to cut through her.

"I don't think I'll kill you. I'll keep you as a pet and let your death take years." She leaned towards him but kept her elbows tucked to her sides.

"No, you won't. Now get your elbows off my table, it's bad manners. Didn't your mama teach you anything?"

**LUCIFER**

Abaddon tortured Sam Winchester. (She may have claimed it was for him, but she will still suffer for daring to touch his vessel's soul.)

Dean allowed himself to be Michael's vessel. (It was so save his precious little brother, but it could be a first step to trusting his big brother.)

Gabriel has been freed from Hell. (He was locked inside of a soul and tortured for two hundred years, because Lucifer killed him.)

All of the angels have fallen and Purgatory was opened. (Raphael, the brother who always refused to fight, has unleashed hell on earth.)

"Still alive in there?" A finger flicked the end of his nose, and he caught a thin wrist before it could fully pull away. Dead brown eyes looked up at him as she smiled, and he noticed the suds still clinging to her fingertips. He's going to enjoy killing her like he hasn't enjoyed a death in centuries.

"I want to sleep." Arched brow, pursed lips, wet hands. He let the psychic go and smiled as she continued to stare at him. After a moment, she shrugged and moved out of the kitchen. He followed her into the living room, which showed an open floor plan and easy visibility of the entire house. There was a small wooden staircase, more of a ladder, leading to a small loft bedroom with a bathroom. There was a large wall at the far end of the living room, which created a small hallway. He followed the woman down the short hallway and through an open doorway, and he took a moment to look around.

The room, which was clearly a bedroom, was mostly empty. There was a single bed, with blue sheets, and a small nightstand. There was a closet and a bathroom, but something big was missing. He turned to look for the psychic, and she was leaning against the doorway. Bare legs were crossed at the ankles, and she was idly running her fingers over the length of chain resting against her collarbone. He wants to feel the warm splash of her blood against his face and pick her skin out of his teeth. She pushed off with her shoulder to stand up straight and held her arms out.

"What do you think?"

"There are no doors." He could see clothes in the closet that looked to be his vessel's size, because there was no door on the closet. There was no door leading to the bathroom, and there was no door to separate the bedroom from prying eyes. Everything was completely open.

"Well, would you look at that? Goodnight, Luci." He watched the way that her dress swayed as she left the room and felt his hands tighten into fists at his side. His vessel needs to be cleaned and then he needs to sleep. He'll find a way to remove his grace and kill Elizabeth Faith Hogan in the morning.

* * *

**Finis:** Another chapter! I had so much fun writing this, especially Lucifer's POV. To some people he might seem a little too bloodthirsty, but that's because he's been weakened and has to vent his anger somehow. Like having really violent thoughts. Some people might think that he's being too complacent and should be fighting more. I think Lucifer is smart and sneaky, so he'll play this out until he can get the upper hand.

I would love to know people's thoughts on this one since it was Lucifer's real debut!


	4. Charming Devil

**TIB: **Another update! It's been way too long, I know, but I'm getting back into the groove of things. No warnings for this chapter, except for Lucifer's occasional passing thought.

**EmmaMarie: **Thank you for the review! Betty is more hardcore than Emma, for sure, and Emma will admit that too. Emma is that hunter you come across who looks like a goofball (she is) but can still take care of herself. You'll never see Betty coming, unless she wants you to. And I really love writing for Lucifer! Is that weird? I feel like that's weird.

**BreeLand:** I'm so glad you liked the story! Well, it's a sidestory, so I don't expect many readers or reviewers. Makes each one that much more special, so thank you for the review!

**Guest:** Thank you for the review! Writing for Lucifer is a lot of fun, because he's so bloodthirsty and annoyed. It's a fun mix.

**Sabie0521: **Thank you for the review! The update took forever, but I hope you're still reading!

* * *

**Chapter Four  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 34]  
**_

**Charming Devil**

* * *

**LUCIFER**

"_They asked me how I knew, my true love was true…I, of course replied, something here inside, cannot be denied."_

The sunlight was warm on his face and blinded him as his eyes struggled to open, and it took him a moment to remember the situation he was in. The psychic hunter, Betty Fay, has stolen his grace and bound them together. He's _human_.

"_They said someday you'll find, all who love are blind. When your heart's on fire, you must realize, smoke gets in your eyes."_

His body was sore as he pushed himself into a sitting position, mostly likely due to the very powerful magic needed to keep him bound. Then again, being tied up for a day would damage a human's body. He needs sleep now. And food. There was a thick smell drifting through the house along with the soft music, and the hardwood floors were warm under his bare feet as he moved towards the kitchen.

"_So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed. To think they could doubt my love. Yet today, my love has flown away. I am without my love."_

She was standing in front of the stove, which is where the smell was coming from. Bacon, eggs, toast. She was already dressed for the day, in a light purple dress that stopped at her knees and left her arms bare. Brown hair was piled on top of her head to reveal the smooth lines of her neck, and it would be so easy to touch against her warm skin and wrench her head to the side.

"_Now laughing friends deride, tears I cannot hide, hide. So I smile and say, when a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes. Smoke gets in your eyes. Smoke gets in…"_

Her body was swaying with the music as if she didn't have a care in the world. She knows that he's in her kitchen, knows that he's standing right behind her and picturing her face bubbling in the bacon grease, but she's not afraid. Looks like his Father really did train her just right. She doesn't fear death, doesn't fear anything. In another life, he could respect that. In this life, he just wants to hear her scream.

"Isn't a little too early for so many death threats? Most humans have to work up to that kind of hatred. Do you like your eggs scrambled?" Big brown eyes and a rough voice greeted him, and he lightly shook his head. Killing her will take time and planning. He can't be too rash.

"Scrambled is fine, thank you." He let a smile grace his face, and she smiled back.

"Much better! I like the gentleman façade. It's a lie, but it's so much easier to deal with than the bloodlust. Why don't you set the table for us, Lu?" She nodded her head towards a cabinet, and he dutifully walked over to the brightly painted door. He set out two plates, found the forks on his own, and sat down in the same chair as last night.

"What does Father want from me?" They both had full plates and a glass of orange juice, and she blinked once as she lightly chewed on a piece of buttered toast.

"I'm not sure. He's not the best with explaining things, but I think he wants you to redeem yourself. The usual, you know?" She took another bite of toast, this time with eggs piled on top of the bread, and continued on like they weren't talking about God. Although, the psychic has a point. Why else would Father make him human and bind him to this woman?

"The world is ending." This time it wasn't a question. She told him what Raphael has been up to, that Abaddon and Eve are both free.

"Looks that way. Shouldn't you be doing a happy dance about that? All of the humans are probably going to die, along with just about every other supernatural creature. Guess that includes your siblings," she shrugged. She pointed to his food, as if reminding him to eat, and he stabbed some eggs with his fork. If he was imagining her eyeballs, that was between him and her. She's not wrong…if Purgatory was opened, there's no telling how many supernatural creatures were released back into the world. Eve is free, so she'll command her children to run free. Raphael may have her under control for now, but it will never last. Eve cannot be controlled. His brothers and sisters…Purgatory was opened.

"Did any of them escape?" He chased down the too dry toast with some of the orange juice, and her brown eyes bore into his own.

"Yes, they escaped. They're looking for you, if that's what you're curious about. They won't find you. Not in time." There was no life in her voice, and she blinked rapidly after she was finishing talking.

"Not in time for what?" She pushed her knuckles against her temples and then smoothed her hands down her dress.

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"I guess not. Any plans for today?"

**BETTY**

Plans? This morning is not really going how she expected, but she should be used to life's curveballs by this point. The devil is acting all gentlemanly and nice, but she can feel the way that his thoughts burn. Burn like ice. It makes her feel cold even with the warm sunlight on her skin. Also, what's with having mini-visions over breakfast? Have her walls completely crumbled into nothing? Is this what her last few whatevers on Earth are going to be like? (It could be days, weeks, months…it won't be years.) She always knew the end was going to suck, so she might as well suck it up. At least she's pretty sure that Lucifer will let her die quickly when the end comes.

"I took today off work, just in case we were still working out the kinks of our arrangement, so we're free for today. Tomorrow, I'm going back to work." Cold blue eyes ran over her, and she calmly bit into a piece of bacon. Her death may be looming on the horizon, but she's not gonna be afraid of it. She's gonna welcome it. Betty Fay, resting at last.

"You don't hunt anymore." He's not asking, because it's obvious. No hunter wears dresses and lives in a house this open. This permanent.

"I'm retired." His laugh sounded startled and was quickly cut off, and Betty raised a brow at him. Huh, she made the devil laugh. That's got to be something to be proud of. "Laugh it up, Luci. As far as I'm concerned, I'm still retired. This isn't a hunting job. I'm babysitting."

"Give me back my grace, and I'll be happy to get out of your hair," he said with a charming smile. Oh, he really is a charming devil.

"You're thinking about scalping me right now. You really think I'm going to give you free reign? I said retired, not stupid."

"We'll see about that." Charming devil indeed.

**LUCIFER**

After breakfast, he returned to his room to change into jeans and a clean tee shirt. He was still lacing up his shoes when Betty walked inside, and he couldn't help the glare he shot her way. Not having any doors was a serious infringement on his privacy. Just another thing to kill the psychic for later. She told him she was going outside and that he was welcome to join her, so he followed her into the large backyard. A giant dog ran up to greet her as soon as they were outside, but the furry beast stayed clear of him. At least some creatures still have self-preservation instincts.

Betty sat in the grass and laid in the sun while the dog ran free, and Lucifer watched from under the shade of a tree. She'd given him a book to read if he got bored, which was now sitting next to him, because he'd rather watch her. All she did was lay there, body lax against the grass and bathed in sunlight. Her arms were spread out as well as her legs, with her dress tucked under her thighs to keep it from blowing in the slight wind. Sometimes she smiled or sang quietly, but she mostly just laid there. It didn't make any sense to him. None at all. He knows who Betty Fay is; he's seen the way that she can rip into bodies. Watched her kill children and monsters alike. Someone like her shouldn't know so much peace.

"Hey, Betty! You back there?!" The psychic was on her feet in the blink of an eye, and her dress swirled under her knees as she looked towards the house. A blonde woman, no, a blonde girl was walking towards her. A teenager. Lucifer moved to stand next to Betty, and he watched the way that the girl's eyes narrowed in concentration. "Don't tell me you finally decided to shack up! What's the lucky guy's name?"

"Lucifer." The blonde skidded to a stop, and he raised a brow at Betty. He didn't expect her to tell the truth, or for the human girl to take the name so seriously. The blonde's face was turning pale and her brown eyes were open wide, and he watched the way that her fingers dug at her bare thighs. She should've worn longer shorts.

"Lucifer?" She was looking up at him now, and there was recognition in her eyes. She _knows_ him, but how? The blonde stepped forward until she was standing directly in front of him, but he doesn't know this human. "How?"

"Had a vision. All angels are confined to the Earth—"

"Yeah, I got that part. I could hear them screaming."

"—, and that means Luci here is confined too. My job was to remove his grace and bind him to me. So, here we are," Betty finished explaining. Is the girl another psychic?

"He's human?" the girl asked.

"He is right here," he said with a tight smile.

"So you can't see who I am?" The girl was looking directly into his eyes, and he thought he could see a faint light shining under the pale brown color. "My name here is Mimi, but my real name is Miriam."

"Miriam…you were in my garrison." One of the youngest soldiers but still fierce, still beautiful in her glory.

"I was."

"You fought against me." He remembers all of the angels in his garrison that turned against him; angels that he loved fiercely and taught like they were his own children.

"I did." He remembers seeing her in the battlefield, fighting against him, and helping to turn the tide. He taught her well and still felt pride for her, even if her strength was used against him. She's no longer an angel though. She's here, and she's human.

"You fell." She closed her eyes and took a step away from him, and he saw the chain around her neck. She carries her grace but remains as a human. Why?

"Heaven…it was never the same after the War. I didn't want to take any more orders or feel dead inside. I wanted to be free," she shrugged. Shrugged. As if what she did was an easy decision to make. Other angels would kill her for the betrayal she made by falling so completely.

"That's all I ever wanted." His voice was quiet and soothing, but Miriam's eyes hardened and she raised her chin the smallest bit.

"No, you wanted to rid the Earth of humans. I wanted the freedom they had. We're nothing alike." She looked away from him and back at Betty, who'd kept quiet for the exchange. "He's physically bound to you?"

"Yep. Like a ball and chain," Betty said and crossed her arms.

"So he'll be at the shop?"

"'Fraid so."

"You're not gonna let him murder the customers, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Alright. Guess I'll see you both tomorrow." Miriam turned and walked away, but she paused just before reaching the edge of the house. "Hey, Lucifer! I hope you get it right this time!"

"What is she talking about?" Betty rocked back on her heels, and her bare arm brushed against his. Was her skin supposed to be so warm?

"You had a choice before, and you chose to defy God and start up a big war. You have a choice now too." She looked up at him with eyes darker than Miriam's, eyes that had no light in them.

"What choice do I have?" So far, he's only being held captive. There's no choice for him to make; he's trapped here in a human body with a woman that he wants dead.

"I guess we'll figure that out together. Hungry?" He's going to have to play this out. It won't be long before another war starts, and that's when he'll get to make his move. For now, he needs to gather his strength and wait for his moment.

"Starving."

* * *

**Finis:** So, how was the update? I know a lot didn't happen, because Betty and Lucifer are still feeling each other out. Trying to see how this is going to play out. So the chapters will get more interesting as we go along, and I'm going to be keeping up with the main story. I'll actually probably update this story again before the main story. If there's any questions or if you wanna talk about Satan, leave me a review or message!

The song used at the beginning is _Smoke Gets In Your Eyes_ by The Platters. It's a great song. You should listen to it.


	5. Cheer Up, Betty

**TIB: **Yes, it is another update! It's another short one, but it was so much fun to write. Small warning for a bit of violence, but that should be the usual for this story.

**EmmaMarie: **In my mind, you always do backflips and walk on your hands before reading a chapter. Writing this story is so much fun, it's ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I love writing for Grace, but this one is a little simpler in some ways. And it has Lucifer in it. Oh! I didn't describe any food in this chapter! I think that's a first for me. Okay, well, there was a tiny description at the end but I'm not counting it because they didn't eat it. The first week back was okay. Now I just gotta make it through this semester. Thank you for the review and good wishes!

**Sabie0521: **Thank you for the review! I'm glad to see you're still reading, and I'm doing my best to make sure that I never go that long between updates again.

**Funkypanda: **I love writing for Betty and Lucifer. If I could use one phrase to describe these two, it'd be: _what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?_ This story is obviously related to the original, but it's definitely got its own plot too. I'm so glad that someone else thinks that Sam is badass! Yeah, Sam spent way more time downstairs than anyone knows. That's another bonus of the side story, knowing something before the people just reading the original. Thank you for the review!

* * *

**Chapter Five  
**_**[ASOG: 35]**_

**Cheer Up, Betty**

* * *

**BETTY**

The sound of quiet laughter drifted throughout the flower shop, and Betty rolled her eyes while Mimi silently giggled beside her. She never would have expected this after this morning, so it's good to know that she can still be surprised. When she woke up bright and early this morning, she got dressed for the day and cooked up a quick breakfast. Lucifer is an early riser, so she didn't have to bother with waking him up. He joined her after a shower, and she did her best not to smile when he walked into the kitchen with a scowl. He hates having to do "human" things, like showering and eating. They ate in near silence, Betty mostly listened to his murderous thoughts while chewing on her toast, and then she led the way outside. That's where the problems started.

"_I don't want to go." Lucifer was standing on the front porch, the rising sun lighting him up like a beacon of goodness, and crossed his arms. _

"_I don't really care. I have a business to run and money to make, unless you want the power company to cut the lights and for us to starve." His eyes were so cold despite the warmth in the air, and Betty propped her hands on her hips. She's standing in her front yard, ready to go, and she doesn't really have the patience to argue with the devil right now. _

"_Then go without me." He turned on his heel and walked over to the porch swing, and Betty listened to the familiar sounds of the worn wood welcoming a new weight._

"_Kind of impossible, Lu, since we're bound together. Even if we weren't, I wouldn't leave you alone. I'd come back to find the house burned to the ground." Does he think she's an idiot? Well, probably, since he's supposed to be superior to all humans…but still. _

"_Why would I do something that would inconvenience me?" She doesn't like that smug little smile on his face. _

"_Are you forgetting about the pain that comes with us being separated?" _

"_I can handle a little pain." He's still smiling, like the cat that ate the canary. He wants to play it like this? Fine. She'll play along._

"_Suit yourself." She stalked over to her Jeep and swung herself inside with ease, and she threw her hand over her head to wave goodbye as she started down the driveway. Her tires had just touched against asphalt when she felt a pull in her stomach, and her fingers twitched against the steering wheel. It didn't hurt, but she felt _wrong_. Looks like she's going to feel a little more than a tickle after all. _

_A part of her wanted to drive all the way into town and go about her day as if nothing had changed. She wanted to sit in the flower shop, talk to her usual customers, charm new customers into buying as much as possible, tease Mimi, and be normal. It was so tempting, but now it felt like her insides were replaced with rocks. She's still not in any pain, but she feels heavy. Weighed down. She drove for a couple of minutes, swore, and whipped the Jeep around. Her knuckles were white as she drove back up the driveway, and she couldn't see Lucifer. He wasn't in the swing. She slid out of the driver's seat, left the door open, and quickly moved up the steps. Lucifer was laying on the porch, face up, but curled in on himself. His face and neck were sweaty, and he was taking quick shallow breaths. Betty slumped into the swing and nudged her toes against his leg. _

"_So, ready to go yet?" His body was still twitching, likely from the aftershocks, but he could still glare with the best of them. _

"_I think I'll make an example out of you. Keep you on the edge of death for years, until you're begging for the end." Betty stood up and reached a hand out towards him, and Lucifer's stolen hand wrapped around hers. She pulled him into a sitting position and bent down so that their noses nearly brushed. Bent down so low that all she could see was the blue of his eyes. _

"_I will never beg you for anything," she said slowly. She's not the begging type, never begged for anything and isn't going to start now. _

"_You will eat those words." She pulled him to his feet and let the callused hand go, and Lucifer smoothed his shirt down. Once he was satisfied, he swept an arm out and bowed his head the smallest bit. "After you."_

She prepared herself for a long day of angry insults and death threats, but Lucifer has been absolutely wonderful. He greeted Mimi with a smile and asked about her life as Betty checked the flowers, and he's even helped the customers look around. He's up to something, she can feel it, but she can't _see_ it. Whatever it is, it can't be good. Lucifer is the sly and cunning type. Is he trying to fake his way into completing his Father's wishes? Because she's pretty sure that He can see right through that. Whatever Lucifer's big test is, he has to pass it honestly. She knows that much. Does He really expect the devil to change his ways and love humans just because he's stuck as one?

"Oh, Betty, your young man here is just wonderful!" Mrs. Richardson said as she reached the counter. Betty rang her up with a tight smile, and she could see Lucifer's smug smile over the older woman's head. Mimi was ducked down behind the counter where no one could see her with her hands clapped over her mouth, and Betty subtly kicked the blonde's ribcage.

"Yeah, Lu is the best there is," Betty replied and handed the bag over. Mrs. Richardson patted her hand and leaned over the counter so she could whisper, but she was still loud enough that even Lucifer could hear her in the back of the store.

"He really is a keeper." Mrs. Richardson left with a wink to Betty and a wave to Lucifer, and Betty groaned once the door was closed behind her.

"That was awesome!" Mimi yelled as she popped up from behind the counter. Lucifer walked over to the counter and leaned one elbow against it, and Betty had a sudden urge to rip the smile from his face.

"How'd I do?" he drawled.

"Very convincing," Betty said without even bothering to put up a placating smile. Lucifer's eyes were boring into her own, but she knows what he's doing. She also knows that it'll never work.

"Very awesome! Good job, Lu!" Mimi praised. The former angel is clearly conflicted. Betty will have to remember to have a talk with her later.

"I like Mrs. Richardson. She's…sweet." She doesn't like the look of that smile. Everything he does feels so cold to her.

"She's a good woman," Betty agreed. If he touches old Mrs. Richardson, she'll tear him limb from limb. Orders or not.

"Cheer up, Betty," Lucifer said as another customer walked in. Betty greeted the young man, and Lucifer swooped in to help him. It didn't matter where they went in the store, Betty never took her eyes off of them. Off of him.

**LUCIFER**

He watched the way that the muscles in her legs shifted under her golden skin as she climbed the stairs, noticed how the mint green of her dress looked against the backs of her knees. She was so painfully human and looked so fragile under the light of the moon, and he could feel his anger itching just under his own thin skin. Her hair was down for once and fell across her shoulders in waves, and he wanted to twine the darker strands around his fingers and _pull_. He spent an entire day playing the part of a perfect mud monkey, and bile has been choking him since that first wave of pain this morning. He hates how much power this one woman has over him. He hates how powerless he is.

The rage built into a deafening crescendo as they stepped into the house, and he snapped. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He took one big step forward, and Betty pushed out one harsh breath as he spun her around and pushed her back against the wall. They're standing in the living room, and he can see into the kitchen. His hands are finally, _finally_, wrapped around her neck. He can feel her pulse against his palm, a strong and steady beat, and he tightened his fingers. Her lips are parted so that he can feel small puffs of air against his chin, and her brown eyes are looking straight up into his. Even now, with her life literally in his hands, she's not afraid. He squeezed until her eyes opened a little more and those little breaths stopped, and he smiled as a vein on her forehead began to bulge and her cheeks flushed with color. She never struggled or tried to get free. The longer he held on, the more she relaxed. Her body was completely trapped between his body and the wall, and she sagged against him.

"Do you feel _anything_?" he hissed. She's still just staring at him and calmly waiting for her end. He loosened the hold, and she opened her mouth a little more to suck down a full breath. Her chest pushed against his as she breathed, but her cheeks were still a dark pink.

"Hungry." His thumbs dropped from her throat to her collarbones, and he watched the way that her skin shifted over her sternum as she took another deep breath. He was touching the silver chain around her neck, but the container holding his grace was hidden. He could feel it pushing against his own chest; it's so close.

"What?" He looked back into her eyes, such a dark brown that they almost look black.

"You asked if I feel anything. I feel hungry, and like I need a good foot massage."

He started to reply, but he never got the chance. Betty's pupils widened to cover her dark irises, and the sound of her head hitting the wall echoed in the open room. Her hands, which had been hanging by her sides, shot up and gripped his forearms. Nails cut down into the skin as her body locked up, and he was suddenly holding her stiff body up against the wall. Her lips parted as she suddenly screamed, and her skin was heating up under his palms. Her pulse was racing, faster than any human's should be able to, and then she went completely lax. Her fingers were still holding onto his now bloody forearms, and her body was soft against his. She still felt too hot, like she was burning from the inside out. The breath she took in sounded like a groan, and he caught a flash of her brown eyes before they closed completely.

"So that's what a vision looks like," he murmured, mostly to himself. She may be God's Favorite Assassin, but it looks like Father didn't take it easy on her. "What did you see, Betty Fay?"

"Nuriel took his true vessel and fought against Gabriel. The whole town is gone, destroyed by fire and grace." Her head was still resting back against the wall, and he can see the marks appearing on her throat. She'll have dark bruises tomorrow. He left his mark on her, and she left some on him.

"Is Gabriel…?" Her eyes slowly opened, and she dipped her chin so that she could really look at him.

"You killed him once, so does it matter if someone else has killed him too?" He wanted to flinch at her words, but he held still. He dug his thumbs into the grooves of her collarbones, and her nostrils flared. It's the first real reaction he's gotten out of her.

"He's my brother, and I love him."

"But you killed him." He can still see the burned imprint of Gabriel's wings on the wooden floor; he can still hear his little brother screaming as he was tortured in Hell.

"That doesn't mean I don't love him." She stared at him, studied him, and nodded her head once. Her chin brushed his wrist, because he's still got his hands wrapped around her throat.

"Gabriel is alive, and so is Nuriel. Gabriel couldn't bring himself to kill Nuriel, so he banished him from his vessel. The whole town was already dead, and Gabriel didn't want to kill the man that Nuriel possessed. Looks like your brother has really turned himself around," Betty forced out. Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, so she talked quietly.

"Where was Michael?" He knows that his big brother is walking the Earth and sticking close to Gabriel, so where was he?

"Michael is in a constructed vessel, so he left." Lucifer blinked, let go of her throat, and took a step back. Betty slid down the wall a little now that he wasn't there to hold her up, but she quickly stood back to her full height. She kept her head up so she could look at him as she started idly wiping the blood off her fingertips. All it did was smear it. Michael…left? Michael doesn't know how to turn down a battle; his brother is a _warrior_, not a coward. Why would he run? "Because when Gabriel inhabits his true vessel, he's stronger and Michael knows it. Everyone's changing but you. Wonder why that is?"

"Stay out of my head." His voice was a quiet growl, and Betty's reply was a quiet roar.

"Make me."

They stared at each other, daring the other to make a move. Lucifer wanted to step forward and end her for good. He wanted to wipe her from the universe's memory, but he's got a feeling that he'd still see her eyes. He never knew he could feel so much rage towards one little human, but he can taste blood in the back of his throat every time he looks at her. It doesn't matter what he does, she doesn't care. She just looks right through him like he's nothing, like nothing matters. He could push her up against the wall again and hold on until her eyes went blank, and she still wouldn't react. He might have underestimated Betty Fay.

"Time for a late dinner?" he finally asked. Betty rolled her shoulders to push off of the wall, and her lips twisted into a small smile.

"I laid out some steaks this morning. Go get washed up, and I'll call you when it's done. Unless you want to help? You can peel and mash the potatoes." She was already in the kitchen, with the lights flipped on. He watched as she twisted her hair up into a ball at the nape of her neck, and he could just make out the dark red marks from his fingertips.

"Let me clean the blood off first." She looked over her shoulder at him and glanced down at his forearms, and her smile was brighter this time.

"Sorry about that. Hurry it up, will ya?" He turned on his heel and moved off to his room, and he only had one thought echoing inside his head.

_She wasn't sorry at all._

* * *

**Finis:** It may be short, but this was an important update. I'm really starting to know the characters, which makes writing for them so much more fun. Violent, maybe, but fun. I would love to know people's thoughts on how things are unfolding between Betty and Lucifer!


	6. Only You

**TIB: **Do I need to give warnings for Lucifer's murderous thoughts and Betty's not-so-pleasant visions? Because I feel like they should both be expected by now. Thank you so much to everyone who has added this story to their favorites or has followed it. I notice all of you, and I am forever grateful. However, I am especially grateful to my reviewers! Both of you!

**EmmaMarie:** Haha, thank you for the review! I really needed that mental image to help me get through the school day. (I'm posting late, but I saw the review much earlier.) The pink tutu was a nice touch. Thanks for putting that into words! I really love writing the violence in the story, because I feel like that's how Lucifer would think if he was stuck in a human body without his angelic powers. He can't _do_ anything, but that's not gonna stop him from thinking about it. Also, I think Thor might have a little competition…

**Funkypanda: **Thank you for the review! I knew I wanted Betty to be a psychic from the beginning and once I started writing, I realized how good of a decision that was because it does help keep everything straight. I'm glad you're still reading!

* * *

**Chapter Six  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 37]**_

**Only You**

* * *

**BETTY**

"_Hi, Betty Fay!" She blinked away the sunlight and looked down. A small child, around four, was looking up at her with big brown eyes. The little girl's dress was a pretty light pink color, and it was covered in grass stains. Blood stains. Grass stains. It kept flicking back and forth. She knows this little girl. She's never seen her, not when she was this little or all grown up, but that hardly matters. _

"_Hello, little Gracie." Her small nose wrinkled in childish anger, and she scuffed her toes against the ground. There's something behind little Emma, but it's too blurry. It's not for Betty to see. _

"_It's coming." Sometimes, the little girl's eyes look like they're on fire. _

"_What is?" Little Emma held her arms out a little and twisted at the hips so that her dress would twirl around her legs. Grass. Blood. Grass. Blood. Everything is on fire. _

"_The end. Yours. Mine. Everyone's." Her smile is so innocent and carefree, but her skin is burned black and peeling. _

"_You don't think your side will win?" The little girl stopped twirling, and she looked normal this time as she looked up at Betty. There was an adult's intelligence in her too wide eyes, and she looked over her shoulder. _

"_He's coming to save me. He always saves me." She turned back around and smoothed her hands down her dress, leaving dark smears against the light fabric. "Who's gonna save you, Betty Fay?"_

The house was still dark when she startled awake, and she held herself still and counted her heartbeats. That wasn't a vision, so what was it? Why would she see a four year old Emma Motley? Unless…Gabriel tore them up inside when he expelled Nuriel, and she's guessing that Emma was fully conscious for everything. Emma regressed, but Gabriel will save her. Gabriel will always save her, just like she'll always save him. They're bound together in a way that she's never really seen before, and she's got a feeling that it's going to end bloody. How else can it end? _"Who's gonna save you, Betty Fay?"_

The sound of a steady thump was coming from downstairs, and Betty could just make out the sound of her old radio. Someone's in her kitchen. Either Lazarus has finally learned how to make his own food, or Lucifer is up and cooking breakfast. She's betting her money on Laz. With a silent groan, that was felt instead of heard, she heaved herself up and out of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cool wood just like they did every morning, but something felt different. Her skin was too tight, her hair was too heavy, her breath was too thick…everything felt wrong but still right. It makes no sense, but that's what her senses are telling her. Everything is wrong. Everything is right.

She snagged a robe from the back of her bathroom door and quickly slid her arms inside. She slept in a pair of shorts that were really too short and a thin tank top, so she tied the belt as she carefully made her way down the stairs. She kept quiet as she moved into the brightly lit kitchen, even as she took in a deep breath. Lucifer is standing in front of her stove, and there's a plate next to him that already has a few pancakes on it. He got up and cooked breakfast. Lazarus is laying on the kitchen floor in front of the sink, and the big lug looked over at her and lazily wagged his tail. He's still not butting his head against the devil, but it looks like her furry companion is starting to get more comfortable in his presence. Sure enough, her old radio is sitting on the counter and playing one of her favorite stations. The song changed just as Lucifer noticed her, and he gave her a sly smile as he slid another pancake onto the plate. How can he be sly while cooking breakfast?

"_Only you, can make this world seem right."_

"Good morning." He gave her a cheery wave with the spatula, and Betty leaned an arm against the doorway.

"_Only you, can make the darkness bright."_

"Morning." Her voice is still rough from sleep, and possibly from getting choked yesterday. There's little crescents dug into Lucifer's forearms with bruises outlining them, so she's not going to give him a stern talking to about trying to kill the hand that feeds you. Not right now anyway. Maybe later.

"_Only you, and you alone, can thrill me like you do." _

"I wanted to surprise you. Why are you up so early?" Betty raised a brow at that particular phrasing, but it was lost on Lucifer because he was pouring more batter into the pan. Quiet little popping sounds filled the kitchen, and she reached up to get her hair out of her face.

"_And fill my heart with love, for only you."_

"Couldn't sleep. Why the sudden urge to pull a Martha Stewart? Trying to apologize?" He did look over his shoulder at that one, and she locked her elbows when his cold eyes swept over her throat. Going by the tenderness, she's got some pretty dark bruises.

"_Only you, can make this change in me."_

"I didn't realize I had anything to apologize for. Should I apologize for something?" How can his eyes burn when they feel so cold? He turned long enough to flip the pancake before looking back at her, and she kept herself relaxed. She knows what he's doing. He's looking for a weakness, for some way to break her. If he can break her enough, she'll hand his grace over willingly. No need for any tests. Does he think she'll break that easily? They're bound together, 'til death do them part.

"_For it's true, you are my destiny."_

"If you have to ask, the answer is no." She kept her eyes flat and her lips smiling, even when he moved the pan off the hot burner and made his way across the kitchen. She tipped her chin up to meet his eyes and watched the way that his fingers reached for the dark marks ringing her neck. Yeah, that's not happening today. She grabbed his wrist before he could make contact, and his eyes blazed. Hot. Cold. What's the difference? It's going to burn either way.

"_When you hold my hand, I understand, the magic that you do."_

"I am sorry, Betty, for hurting you. Will you accept my pancake apology?" His eyes are too bright and his smile is too wide; is he trying to charm her into a false sense of security? He knows better than that. Then again, this is the devil. He's the master of manipulation and mind games. She can't let her guard down around him, because there's no telling what he's planning.

"_You're my dream come true. My one and only you."_

"I'll accept them this time. If it happens again, you're sleeping on the porch." Lucifer twisted his wrist so that he was holding her hand instead of her gripping his wrist, and he used the gentle hold to lead her over to the table. He used his free hand to pull out her chair, and she eased herself down into it with a bemused smile. Oh, but the devil is good.

"Understood." He set a plate down in front of her, along with a glass of orange juice, and placed her bottle of syrup in the center of the table. Betty took a cautious taste after Lucifer took his first big bite, and she chewed slowly as her thoughts raced. "Not good?"

"Where'd you learn to cook pancakes?" she finally asked. They tasted delicious. Fluffy and golden brown, just right.

"From Nick." Her fingers tightened around her fork for just a moment, hard enough to make her knuckles flash white, and she used the juice to wash down the food.

"I'm glad his soul at his peace. Maybe you should stay out of his memories so he stays that way?" She knows that sometimes the angels have to take a vessel; it's the only way they can really walk the Earth. The more powerful the angel, the harder it is to find a vessel. She's surprised that Nick's body lasted as long as it did, but not nearly as surprised at the fact that Lucifer released his vessel's soul. Not many angels can do it because of how much energy and power it takes, and Lucifer was already weak just by being in Nick's body. She really doesn't understand him sometimes.

"Why should I when they benefit me?" He looked truly curious for once instead of just mocking, but it doesn't matter what answer she gives. It benefits him, and that's all that really matters.

"Because it's morally wrong. Do you understand what you did to him?" Lucifer leaned forwards, but she noticed that he kept his elbows off her table. Looks like you can teach an old dog new tricks.

"I set him free," was the soft answer. It's written all over his face and reflected in his eyes; he really believes that.

"No, Lucifer, you killed him. He still had a chance. Could have fallen in love and started all over, but you took that from him. You took everything from him." He shook his head as he leaned back in his chair, and Betty took another bite as she waited for him to speak.

"He had already lost everything. Nick had one love, and she was gone. His child was gone. I sent him home." Home…to Heaven, where his wife and child were waiting. Maybe Lucifer really did free the guy, but that's not for her to decide.

"For his sake, I hope so. Up for another day at the flower shop?" The tight line of his shoulders relaxed and his smile softened, and Betty took another sip of juice. Each morning keeps getting weirder and weirder.

"I can't wait."

**LUCIFER**

He was sitting on the store side of the counter, and his eyes tracked Betty's movements as she walked back from the front door of the shop. They closed for lunch, so Betty had to flip the sign back to _Open_. Mimi was leaning against the counter behind him and talking about how she didn't want to go to school the next day, Monday. She's a fallen angel attending high school, and his fearsome captor owns a flower shop. Nothing about his return is making any sense, but he has a plan. He's starting to have a plan. He will get his grace back, no matter what. He'll endure whatever is needed until he's an angel again, and that includes everything from cooking breakfast to helping customers to playing his part as a gentleman. It's too bad gentlemen can't wrap their hands around slender necks and squeeze until—

_Ding!_

Betty twirled on her heel behind the counter to face the door, and Lucifer's eyes were drawn to the bright purple scarf tied around her neck. He's sure that the bruises underneath are a much darker color. It took some focus, but he managed to look away and watch the man slowly walking towards them. He was taller than his vessel by a couple of inches, broad in the shoulders and strong, and his blue eyes flicked all around the shop from under a mop of unbrushed black hair. The jeans and heavy dark jacket he was wearing looked rumpled, like he'd slept in them, and the dark blue button-up underneath was missing the bottom two buttons. The kid looked horrible.

"Are you the owner?" He was looking right at Betty since she was the only one actually behind the counter, and Lucifer leaned back enough to keep both of them in his line of sight.

"I am. The name's Betty Hogan. Who are you?" Betty doesn't sound worried, but that doesn't mean anything. The psychic can't see everything.

"Gabriel says hi." Lucifer felt something in his spine pull, and Mimi stirred behind him.

"Is he talking about our Gabriel? The Gabriel?" the younger ex-angel asked. The kid's eyes looked at Mimi before refocusing on Betty, and the psychic hummed a little in the back of her throat.

"You must be Tyler Swan, Nuriel's true vessel. Gabriel dropped you off here, didn't he?" A muscle in the kid's jaw ticked, but he kept his voice even.

"Something like that." Betty nodded as she rooted around under the cash register, and she tossed her keys to Mimi a moment later.

"Take him around and get him everything he needs. Clothes, food, other essentials. When you're done, take him to the shed."

"The shed?" Betty was pulling her wallet out now, and the kid took a few more steps forward.

"That's just what I call it. It's more like a guest house. It's small, but it'll fit one just fine. Mimi, go ahead and fill him in on everything. He's going be to around for a while, so it's better to have him prepared. We'll talk tonight, after I get off work. Take care of my Jeep." Betty passed her debit card over to the teenager, and the kid was looking back and forth between all of them.

"That's it? I give you Gabriel's message and now you're taking care of me?"

"Just like that. I know you're thinking about running, but I wouldn't if I were you. You're safe here, protected, but you're on your own out there. Do you want Nuriel to ride your ass again?" The kid's eyes shuttered, completely shut down, and he looked down at the floor.

"No, ma'am."

"Then follow Mimi. I'll see you tonight." The kid followed Mimi out of the shop with shuffling steps, and Betty sighed once the door was closed behind them.

"Gabriel was here?" Betty stopped rubbing at her temples so that she could look at him, and she lightly bit down on the corner of her lip. No, next to the corner of her lip. Closer to her cheek. The flash he caught of her tongue showed a mixture of soft pink and bright red. She bit the inside of her cheek, next to her lip. She must have had a smaller vision.

"Gabriel and Michael were both here, but they didn't come into town. Looking a little pale there, Lu. Scared?" Betty's teasing smile was so close that he could reach up and tear it off, and his hands clenched into fists as he fought the urge down.

"Could they sense me?" Even if they were on the edge of town, that's still close enough to sense him. All angels can sense others of their kind, but they were the first four. They've always been different. Is it possible that Gabriel and Michael could be that close and have no idea he was here?

"No, they can't sense you. They know where I am, and that's it. They don't know about Mimi or you, but they want me to keep Tyler Swan safe. We both know what will happen if Nuriel gets his hands on him again." The teasing tone was gone from her voice, and he looked away from the dark nail mark barely an inch away from his wrist. Her eyes are dark again, not like when she's having vision, but it's something close. She knows what's coming.

"He'll burn the entire planet." Betty nodded without comment, and he reached up to run his fingers along the counter. His middle finger got snagged on Betty's thumb and he held still, and Betty raised a brow at him. Waiting. "My Apocalypse never really got started, but this one is different. It's…bigger."

"Was that hard to admit? Men and their egos." She snagged one of his hands and flipped it over, so that his palm was facing the ceiling. A single finger, with dirt caked under the fingernail, ran across the lines of his palm as she hummed. "It's going to end bloody, that's for sure. Even if the good guys win, it'll be too late to save them all. It'll be too late to—"

"Too late to what?" Her finger was still tracing figures on his palm, but she's gone off script. She's not tracing the lines anymore.

"Too late to save me. I'll die before this Apocalypse is over." Down. Right. Curve towards the center. Looping upwards. Tickling the edges of his fingers.

"Do I get a front row seat?" He smiled when she looked up to meet his eyes, but her finger is still moving. The sensation is tickling, and he wants to pull away. He won't be the first one to back down.

"You better wear your raincoat, Luci." She gave him a little wink as her index finger traced a line up his middle finger, and she was humming again as she walked off to tend to the flowers. A raincoat? He wouldn't bother with one. Why would he when he's just waiting for the chance to feel her blood coat his skin? "Bring me the garden shears, would ya?!"

"Coming right up."

* * *

**Finis:** Whew! I can't remember the last time I updated this much in a week. Writing for Betty and Lucifer keeps getting easier, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Kidding! It's definitely a good thing, because it means I can keep updating. I'll update this story two more times and then I'll update the main story, that way they'll be caught up with one another. Thank you to everyone reading!

The song used at the beginning is _Only You_ by The Platters.


	7. The Color Suits You

**TIB: **I know I'm putting these out really fast, but these chapters are shorter and I'm having fun writing for Betty and Lu.

**Funkypanda: **You have a very good point. It's nice to get feedback, but I'm happy as long as you're reading. Thank you for the review!

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**Chapter Seven  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 37]**_

**The Color Suits You**

* * *

**BETTY**

"Stay here." She didn't bother to look behind her, but she could feel Lucifer's eyes burning a brand right between her shoulders.

"Why should I?" She tapped her fingers against the old doorknob and shifted on her feet before speaking again. It's all just flashes, quick little images, but she's seen enough. For now.

"The kid's been through a lot, and he needs some rest. What he doesn't need is Satan looking down at him." Lucifer's heavy shoes shuffled across the porch, and she heard the top step groaning under his weight a moment later. He's sitting down. Good. She's too tired to fight right now.

"Be quick with it. I smell like a funeral." Light and teasing, but there's a hint of a threat underneath. There always is with him.

"Don't we all?" She turned the knob and stepped inside, and she carefully closed the door behind her and pressed her back to it. The little guest house isn't much to look at, but it's good for one person. The living room, kitchen, and bedroom are all just one big room. There's a lumpy loveseat in front of an ancient TV, a full-sized bed stuffed into the corner, a stove the size of a thumb, and a pretty-decent sized fridge considering the room it's in. There's a small bathroom behind a door with peeling yellow paint, and there's a young hunter sitting on the far end of the ugly patterned loveseat.

"Took you long enough," the kid huffed out. He's had a shower, because his hair is still mostly wet. The ends are starting to dry and curl up a little. He's wearing a blue tee shirt and baggy sleep pants that scream "thrift store," but she's just glad he's wearing something that doesn't smell like ashes.

"I have a business to run. I can't leave whenever I want to," she explained and lowered herself onto the opposite arm. She could sit on the loveseat next to the guy, he's no threat to her, but she feels like he needs some space.

"And when the world ends?" He said it easily and casually, but she can see the tension in his shoulders. No one takes the Apocalypse lightly. Not even her.

"I'll sell flowers in Heaven. So, Mimi got you completely caught up?" Miriam was a warrior, but Mimi…she has the innocence of a teenage girl. Sometimes Betty can see the angel under the surface, but she prefers Mimi's soft and trusting eyes.

"You're a psychic and retired hunter. You bound a human Lucifer to you in preparation for the Apocalypse that's on the way. All angels are confined to the Earth, that's why Nuriel was hunting me down, but I shouldn't worry about any of that." He ended the little re-telling with a snort and an eye-roll, and Betty wondered what it was that the fallen angel said.

"Oh? Why not?" She leaned forward just a little, and the young hunter's eyes met hers.

"Because Michael and Gabriel won't let the world end. I've met them, and they don't seem like such great warriors to me."

_Michael is covered in blue and screaming his rage for Heaven to hear. Gabriel is Emma is Gabriel. We will destroy them all._

"You'd be surprised," she said slowly. What the hell was that? She's never seen that before; she's never seen anything even close to that before. The others were there too and tickling at the edges of her vision, but she couldn't see them. They might be able to pull off saving the world, but at what price?

"How long do I have to stay here?" She pulled out of her thoughts and looked over at the young kid. He's only nineteen, with dead parents and a fake ID.

"You can leave now, if you want." He looked up at her so fast she thought she heard something pop, and she just smiled at him. "Or you can stay here and ride out the Apocalypse. You're free to go at any time, but if you do, leave a note so that I know an angel didn't sneak into my town."

"I think I can remember that." He tried to smile, but it didn't really stick. She can't fault him for that. They live in strange times.

"Mimi get you a cell phone?" He nodded his head and looked over towards the bed, and Betty followed his gaze. A small phone, disposable, was sitting on top of the blanket. It's got her cell number in it, Mimi's cell, and the number to the flower shop. "If you need anything, kid, just give me a call or walk over."

"Are you really a psychic?" She was standing up and walking towards the door, but she paused at the question. Leaving Lucifer outside to get impatient isn't exactly a smart decision, but he'll hold for another minute.

"Really. Wanna know your fortune?" It was asked with a dimpled smile and a slight tilt of her head, but she doesn't hate the kid for asking. Some people she hated for asking, the ones that mocked her and called her a fraud…like anyone would actually want this _gift_?

"Am I going to live through this Apocalypse?" Something knocked against her skull, but she knew not to let it in. She doesn't want to know the answer. If she did, it wouldn't matter. It's not time for her to know.

"Maybe. God gave us free will for a reason, but it wasn't to help my psychic abilities. Your future is up to you. Now get some sleep. Being a vessel is hell on the body." She gave a little wave over her shoulder as she opened the door, and she took a slow breath once she was outside. Lucifer was still sitting on the top step and looking out across the lake, or is he looking past the lake to her house? Their house, for the time being.

"I think Betty Fay is a _liar_," Lucifer said quietly, singing the last word. Huh, his hearing must be pretty good. She touched against his hair, the soft blonde strands that didn't belong to him, as she passed him on her way down the steps.

"I can't lie if I don't know the truth," was her reply as she started across the space between her house and the guesthouse. She could hear Lucifer walking behind her, but he didn't bother with trying to catch up. He likes looking at her. Likes imagining all the ways that she can be killed. Imagines the sound of her bones as they're sawed through, the way her blood will pool as her entrails are torn out, feel her screams vibrating through the air…The devil does have a good imagination.

They passed the walk to the house in silence, at least, external silence. Internally, it was very far from quiet. Betty slowly walked up the steps to her own front porch, and she paused before reaching the door. No, it's not time to go inside yet. She turned on her heel and moved over to the swing, and she felt Lucifer's eyes on her. Not murderous, simply curious. She eased herself down on one side with a quiet sigh, and she let her body relax back against the wood. The space next to her was left wide open, and Lucifer took the offered seat. The swing swayed as he sat down, and Betty kept it going by pushing her toes against the wooden boards under her feet. On an impulse, she kicked off her sandals so she could feel the wood with her bare toes. They're still warm but quickly losing heat in the night air.

"It's a beautiful night." The tone was light, maybe even a little wistful, and Betty drew a leg underneath her as she turned to face him. Once she was settled, her back was brushing against the chains holding the swing up, she had one leg tucked under her, and her other leg was stretched out so she could keep rocking the swing.

"What does the devil know about beautiful nights?" Lucifer didn't turn to look at her like she thought he would. Instead, he let out a slow breath and trailed his fingers over the chains on his side.

"Father made the Earth first, before humans. I never claimed to hate the Earth. It has always been beautiful." Oh, so that's it. He may love the planet that his Father created, but he hates the humans that live on it. Because…because humans have ruined it. He always knew that the humans would destroy his Father's creation, but no one would listen. He has been proved right and still no one cares; they still call him a blasphemer and curse his name. He was right.

"Do you love your brothers, Lucifer?" Huh, his eyes look warm in the darkness. He really is a big ball of strange contradictions. Cold eyes that burn more than any fire and warmth when there's no light.

"Do you know anything about love?" Her lips tipped down in a "fair enough" expression, and she stretched out her leg to keep it from cramping. Her toes brushed against Lucifer's leg before settling her foot on his thigh, and a callused hand gently touched against the top of her foot.

"I know that it's something that builds up deep inside and that it makes people do crazy things. Good people will kill for love, and bad people will give themselves up for it. There's songs, and poems, and stories, and movies about it. It's screamed from rooftops in glee and whispered in broken words from those who have lost it. It's the most powerful weapon there is," she said quietly. She's never really been in love, not with a person. She's in love with life and the feeling she gets when the sun warms her face. She's seen it though; she's seen what it can do to people. She might have loved Jo, the hunter that raised her, but she was too angry to really pay attention.

"I know plenty of beings that would disagree with you there." She hates when he smiles like that, smug and all-knowing. Has she ever smiled like that?

"Then I guess they don't know anything about love, do they?" Long fingers tapped against the small bones in her feet before smoothing down towards her ankles. He patted his thigh on the other side of her foot, and she raised a brow in question. The look he gave her told her that she knew what he was asking for, but she doesn't really believe it. "I want to swing."

"I'll make sure we keep swinging." She raised her other leg and touched her heel against his thigh, and she heard the sound of his heavy boots rolling across the wooden boards as he kept them moving. It was a constant sound. Soothing.

"I don't mean all your siblings. The four of you, you were the first. You guys can spout out how much you love all the angels all you want, but I know the bond between you four is stronger than any other. So, Lucifer, do you love your brothers?"

"I told you that I love Gabriel." His thumbs pushed against the arch of her right foot as his fingers kneaded against the aches, and she hummed a little. It's what she always does when she's thinking. Or when someone else is doing her thinking for her.

"Mmm, yeah, but you still killed him." He alternated to her other foot, and she let her toes pop. She really does love a good foot massage, and the devil has nimble fingers apparently.

"What was it you said?" His eyes met hers and his rhythm never faltered. "Good people will kill for love?"

"You're not a good person," was her quick counter. It was delivered with a small smile and a foot wiggle, so Lucifer switched feet again. She stands more on her right foot than her left one, so it carries the brunt of her aches and pains.

"No, I am an archangel. Don't you think that makes my love even stronger?" Before the War, angels felt emotions that humans would never be able to fathom. So, it would make sense that Lucifer's love was stronger than anything felt by a human, but love is not the only emotion that can be felt.

"You killed him out of love?" She's sure Gabriel would love to hear this conversation, to be able to hear his brother say that he was killed out of _love_.

"It was something that had to be done." A means to an end. She gets it, in a sick and twisted kind of way. Can she really judge him for what he did? She's killed to achieve her own ends, but she can at least say that she never loved any of them. Would he still say that if he could have seen the state of Gabriel's wings before they were ripped away? If he saw the way that his little brother was torn apart in the Pit?

"Do you love Raphael?" Of all the archangels, she's seen him the least. Until recently, that is.

"I do. He chose not to fight, for me or Michael. Out of all of us, he was the…softest." Michael is full of sharp edges, Lucifer is too bright, and Gabriel is more human than them all.

"Not anymore. He's a leader now, a commander. He opened Purgatory and chained all the angels to the Earth. What do you think changed him?" Lucifer ran his hands along her ankle bones before softly pressing his thumbs along the outline in circles, and she waited for him to gather his thoughts. She can see _how_ Raphael has changed, but not _why_.

"I was in the Cage for a very long time, and it's hard to see down there." He flashed her a crooked smile and circled his thumbs again. "Raphael always hated fighting. During the War, he would beg Michael to stop fighting. To let me come home. Gabriel would remain silent when Raphael asked for him to stop fighting, but Michael would always refuse outright. Maybe he got tired of sitting back and doing nothing."

"Do you still love Michael?" His hands tightened around her ankle, nearly hard enough to bruise, before relaxing and moving to her other foot to start the process all over again. She could get used to this.

"It was just us, for a little while. Just the two of us. He was my big brother; I looked up to him; I loved him from the moment I saw him. I trusted him, and that mistake cost me my freedom. My home." It sounds like the devil misses Heaven, but who wouldn't after spending lifetimes locked inside of a dark cage?

"Do you still love him?" she asked again. Warms hands traced up her shins and then shifted to smooth down her calves, and she wiggled her toes against his stomach. She's waiting for an answer.

"Should I? Should I love someone who hates me?" He doesn't sound hurt by the question like any other person would be. Just quietly accepting with a little curiosity on the side.

"Michael doesn't hate you. He hates the way things unfolded and how much destruction you reaped on one another, but he doesn't hate you." Lucifer raised a brow at her and tilted his head to the side a little like he was trying to read her the way she so easily read him sometimes.

"I still love him." She placed her feet flat on Lucifer's thigh and scooted forwards as she raised her knees, and she looped her arms around her legs before propping her cheek on top of her knees.

"It's still blurry, but I think you'll be given a choice. I'm not sure what the choices will be, but I know they'll be involved. The three of them. They'll give you a choice." Her voice was nearly a whisper, even though there's no one else around them. Maybe that's why she's whispering. He's the only one listening.

"Will that be my big test?" His eyes traced the silver chain around her neck, and Betty blinked up at him as the knocking from earlier returned.

_He's standing between them, the final point returned at last. It's blue, it's gold, it's green…he's so bright, and her world is red._

"Yes." She came out of the small vision right as his fingertip touched the corner of her eye, and she held still as he traced a small line across her cheek. That same finger moved back to the top of her foot and traced small patterns across the thin skin, in the same way that she traced his palm earlier this afternoon.

"Your toenails were purple."

_Her world is red._

"What?" Her mind needs to learn when to shut up. The devil is talking about her toenails for some reason, so she needs to pay attention. She doesn't need cryptic messages echoing.

"When I first came here, your toenails were purple." She hasn't really had the time to repaint her toenails, so they're just bare. Huh, he remembers what her feet looked like. He must have been in agony, but he can remember such a small detail.

"Yeah, they were." One hand encircled her ankle while the other rose, and she held still as he reached for her. He's not going to kill her. Not tonight.

"The color suits you," he said as fingers pressed against the side of her throat. The spot flared with heat followed by a deep ache, and Lucifer gentled his fingers so that she could only feel a whisper of his touch. "If I had my grace, I'd heal you."

"I'll never return your grace just to heal myself. I would—"

"—die first," he finished. Looks like he's finally starting to understand who she is. That's good, because she's starting to understand him a little too.

"We should go in and get some sleep. We have work in the morning." She grabbed the hand hovering close to her face as she swung her legs around, and she tugged Lucifer up as she got to her feet. Once he was standing, she bent down to snag her sandals and led the way inside the house. Laz was stretched out in the kitchen and letting out little doggy snores, so she turned towards the stairs leading to her room.

"Goodnight, Betty Fay." She hates that name, especially on his lips.

"Night, Lu."

* * *

**Finis:** I realize that while there is plenty of Lucifer in this chapter, there is a lack of his perspective. That was accidental. Betty's part kind of got away from me and wrote itself, so we'll hear Lucifer's thoughts on their discussion in the next chapter. (Not a re-telling; the story will pick up with the next morning.) There's a lot of random details and foreshadowing in this chapter. Anyone wanna guess at what's going to happen?


	8. My Bad Angel

**TIB: **Small warning for this chapter. There's a little bit of death and the usual gory thoughts, but the death part isn't really graphic. Well, it's not bloody or anything.

**EmmaMarie: **Thank you for the review! Don't feel bad, I'm absolutely horrible at guessing too. I like doing some foreshadowing though. Makes it more fun. And if I ever find Thor, and his pancakes, you're the first person I'm inviting over.

**Sabie0521: **I'm glad you like the conversations! I never really know where their conversations are going to go; it just kinda happens. Don't worry, all will be revealed in time! _Grace_ still has a very long way to go, so this story won't be ending for a while. Thank you for the review!

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**My Bad Angel**

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**LUCIFER**

Sleep left him slowly and made him feel heavy, but the weight was comfortable and warm. The longer he's human, the more used to it he gets. He's even moved into a routine, sickening as it is. It hasn't even been a full week yet, and he has a routine. There's breakfast, work, lunch, work, home, dinner, shower, sleep. Repeat. Is He punishing him? Is that why he's here? Does Father think that if he's human long enough, he'll stop hating them? It'll take more than living in a skin sack to break him. He doesn't even need to break, because he doesn't need His approval. Not anymore. All he needs is Betty Fay. The stubborn woman will never believe any of his lies or tricks; she can see right through him, so he won't lie. No tricks. He'll be himself and win her over that way. He can be charming without lying, and he can convince her that he can do some good with his grace. (Who's good doesn't matter.)

"Rise and shine! Hurry up before the eggs get cold!" Betty's loud voice echoed in the open house, and he slowly pushed his blanket and sheets down. He can understand why some humans never want to leave their beds. It's warm and a good place to hide. He changed clothes on autopilot as he thought about the previous night.

By now, he's used to having strange conversations with the psychic he's being forced to live with. He's even used to the more violent conversations, but last night was different. They sat quietly, on the dark porch, and didn't exchange a single menacing word. He even massaged the ex-hunter's feet while discussing the power of love. Sounds like something out of a bad made for TV movie. He felt his lip curling as he pulled a clean tee shirt over his head, and he cursed her name. _Betty Fay_. She was born for death and orders; he just never thought that he would be one of those orders.

"Eggs again?" he asked as he walked inside. Betty was already sitting at the table and chewing on a sausage biscuit, and she raised a brow at him as he sat down.

"If you don't like it, feel free to forage for your own food. This whole being welcoming thing is starting to get old anyway." She took another bite without looking away from the phone in her left hand, and he kept his grip light as he picked up his orange juice. He has a feeling that imagining the glass as the psychic's throat will only result in pain for him and a source of amusement for her. "More like annoyance. I have a feeling that you've never had to clean up your messes before."

"Isn't it still too early to read my thoughts?" She looked up and across the table at him, and he smiled.

"Can't seem to stop it lately. Is that your fault or your Father's?" The psychic is losing control of her powers? Betty Fay is a born psychic; she had to have learned how to control it when she was younger, or she wouldn't have lasted this long. Betty Fay is losing control…this could work in his favor, if she slips too much.

"I'm just a mere human. What could I possibly do?" She narrowed her eyes at him, but he kept a light smile on his face.

"You'll never be a mere anything, Lu. Finish up. We gotta go soon." She placed her phone on the table as she slid out of her chair, and blue eyes tracked her every movement as she walked to the sink. Always looking for a weakness that isn't there. Even when she's relaxed, she's prepared for anything. The radio crackled to life and smoothed out as she turned the water on, and Lucifer finished his meal to the sound of quietly clinking dishes and soft music.

"You need to learn how to have fun," he called out before finishing off his juice.

"Is that really the devil's opening line? Little simplistic if you ask me." He could hear the teasing in her voice as she washed a plate, and he carefully slid his own dirty dishes next to her elbow on the counter. The song faded out so another one could take its place, and the timing was perfect. How could he resist?

"Then I'll step it up."

"What are you—Hey!" The hands now clutching at the shoulders of his tee shirt were still wet with a few soap suds clinging to them, and Lucifer smiled as he slowly raised Betty out of the deep dip they were in. He fluidly moved into a turn and kept her moving, and he saw her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as they started to dance around the kitchen.

_I'm a country girl, I ain't seen a lot_

_But you came along, and my heart went POP!_

_You took a little streetcar to my heart_

_And an apple of love fell of my apple cart!_

"This is what fun looks like," he said as he spun her away from him. She laughed outright as she was pulled back in, and the light blue dress she was wearing swirled around their legs.

_You looked at me, my heart began to pound_

_You weren't the sort of guy I thought would stick around_

_Hey, but it don't have to be eternally_

_My bad, bad angel put the devil in me!_

"You put the devil in me," she sang along as they moved around the table and out into the living room. The house was so open that sound carried easily, and they continued to move around each other.

_You lured me in with your cold grey eyes_

_Your simple smile and your bewitching lies_

_One and one and one is three_

_My bad, bad angel…the devil and me!_

"Are you having fun yet?" They were pressed together as they slowed to a sway, so he barely had to raise his voice to be heard. He's so close to her that he can feel the steady beat of her heart and smell the shampoo that she uses. She's so close that it would be so easy to grab a handful of her hair and wrench her head to the side, or smooth his hand up her ribcage and rip through to find her heart. Maybe he could—

_So now my dear, I ain't the girl you knew_

_Cause the angels got Heaven, but I get you_

_And the tree of life grows tall, you see_

_My bad, bad angel—you put the devil in me!_

"Who knew you—" A scream cut off the rest of her question, and Lucifer tightened his arms as Betty began to shake. He slowly lowered her to the ground as the movements began to get more violent, and he locked his hands around her skull once she was on floor. Her eyes were wide open, and the black of her pupils stood out against the whiteness of her eyes. Nails dug into the floor while her legs kicked out, and she was still screaming.

It stopped as suddenly as it began. The screaming faded out first, just in time to hear the last _you put the devil in me! _ echo in the room. Her back touched down against the floor as her eyes returned to their usual light brown, and her hands moved up to her face. Small trickles of blood were coming from her nose, and she reached up to wipe it away. He managed to get there before she did, and he used the bottom of his shirt to clean the blood off her face. (It's a sight he won't be forgetting anytime soon…Betty bleeds just like all the rest of them.)

"Something big?" he asked. He's seen her have small visions that only cause her eyes to fade out a little, and he's seen one of her bigger visions. When Nuriel set an entire town on fire and was cast out by Gabriel, something that takes an incredible amount of power, she only screamed a little and locked up.

"I need my phone." Instead of arguing with her, he slowly stood up and retrieved the small phone from the table. She'll tell him what he wants to know, he's sure of it. There are many things that can be said about Betty, but she's always straightforward and honest. She's never held anything back from him. He passed the phone over and listened as she talked to Mimi, who was probably getting ready for school. She asked the ex-angel to stop by the shop before class and put up a sign that said the shop was closed for the week, and she wanted the girl to keep an eye on the hunter in their backyard. Keep him occupied and away from the house. Then she hung up, without an explanation.

"Ready to talk?" Brown eyes slowly moved up his kneeling body until they locked with his, and he held himself still as he waited.

"Gabriel and Emma…they're completing the bonding. The first angel and human soulmate pair since Cain and Sariel. They're going to be strong, Lucifer." Gabriel is bonding himself to a _human_? He knows his little brother slummed it up by taking up with the pagans, but is he really going to turn himself into an abomination?

"Michael is allowing this?" His older brother hated the abominations more than anything else; he made it his own personal mission to completely wipe them out.

"He loves his brother, and he loves the human. He also knows that they may need their strength. Your brother is a very conflicted person. He doesn't know what to think anymore," Betty said and reached a hand up. When he just continued to look at her, she rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand with her own.

"What else did you see?" There was something dark in her eyes that he couldn't understand, but her grip was strong.

"I saw your first test. Looks like you'll get to kill me after all." He couldn't stop his slow smile even if he wanted to.

"I can't wait," was his reply as he pulled her into a sitting position. Since he was kneeling and she was sitting flat on the floor, she still had to tip her head back to look at him.

"Think you're strong enough to bring me back too?" His lips pulled down into a pout at those words, and she slowly laced their fingers together.

"You take the fun out of everything."

**.xXx.**

He was sitting on the steps that lead up to Betty's bedroom when she returned from the basement, and he took a moment to look her over. He's gotten used to seeing her in pretty sundresses that completely conflict with her rough personality, and the clothes she's wearing now look like they were made for her. This is how she should always look. Tight and dark pants tucked into heavy boots, a black shirt that molds to her form, and a dark look in her eyes. Bottles clinked together in her hand, and he raised a brow at her.

"Want to tell me what's going on yet?" He really hates being left in the dark. She paused right in front of him, and the smell of strong herbs was clinging to her. Just what is she up to?

"Upstairs." He raised a brow, which just made her smile and flick her eyes upwards. Maybe he'll get to kill her slowly. He got to his feet and moved up the stairs, and he could hear her heavy boots on the stairs behind him. He knew that if she wanted to, she could be completely silent. Once they were upstairs, Betty moved around him and over to the bed. Two bottles filled with liquid were set down on the bedside table, and she laid down on the far side of the bed. She pointedly looked at the empty space next to her, and he made a show of shuffling his feet as he crossed the room. The bed shifted under his weight, and Betty looked at his hands before meeting his eyes.

"What's my test, and what are you doing?" She rolled her shoulders and shifted to get comfortable, and she flicked her eyes over at the bedside table.

"I'm taking a day trip to Heaven. I have some people I need to talk to, ingredients to gather, and so on. Your test is to revive me." Revive? If she's going to Heaven, she has to die. He gets to kill her so that she can go to Heaven, and it will be entirely up to him to bring her back. She knows that he will. With her dead, his grace is impossible to reach.

"Explain." She has a plan, of course she does. Someone doesn't just up and decide to visit Heaven without coming up with a plan first.

"The darker liquid will put me in a stasis so that I don't start to decompose, and the lighter one will revive me. Damn thing rarely ever works, always comes with consequences…but it'll go off without a hitch this time." Her eyes were dark and her voice was rough, and he could see the tension in her arms and jaw.

"Divine plan?"

"Something like that. You have to bring me back in exactly twenty-four hours. Not a minute later. Seven forty-eight, on the dot. So, how are you gonna do it? I know you've thought about it." Thought about it? It's the one thing he hasn't stopped thinking about since he woke up here, without his wings or grace. However, now isn't the time to indulge. He'll save that for later when he can really enjoy it. He picked up the plump pillow sitting on his side of the bed, and Betty quirked a brow at him as she smiled. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"This won't be the last time that I kill you," he said and let the pillow hover over her face. He wants to see her eyes, even though she never shows him any real emotion.

"Somehow I don't doubt that. Alright, Luci, let's get this show on the road." The pillow covered her face, and he leaned up onto one knee so that he could push down as hard as he could. After a few minutes, her back bucked up as her heels dug down into the mattress. This might be what she wants, but her body is still going to fight. Good. He doesn't mind a little fight.

It took several minutes for her body to go still, but he still didn't remove the pillow. He needs to make sure that she's actually dead, right? Some minutes later, he slid the pillow away and placed it back where it belonged. The two bottles were still sitting on the bedside table, and he held up the one that looked like it had dark mud inside. Stasis. He slid a hand around Betty's neck (his handprint perfectly matched the still dark bruises), and he smiled when he couldn't feel a pulse. He raised her neck so that her head tipped back, and his thumb pushed down on her chin to part her lips. The thick liquid sluggishly moved down her throat with the help of his fingers, and he placed her back on the bed once he was finished. The chain around her neck was gone…his grace was in Heaven, with her soul.

Death shouldn't look like this. She's laying against the bed as if she's napping, not like she just died. She doesn't look right. This isn't how it's supposed to be. Death is messy and loud, not this neat and quiet. It should leave a smear on the universe; it should come with a scream announcing its arrival. Just looking at her makes him feel sick, because it's _wrong_. Death should leave an impact, an imprint. Then again, she's not really dead. She'll be back tomorrow. Back to taunting him with life coloring her cheeks and torturing him with her every breath. The next time she dies, he'll do it right. He'll make sure the whole universe can hear and witness her death.

With her currently out of the house, it's time to look into a few things. He's physically bound to her body, so there's no point in him trying to escape. Where would he go anyway? He has too many enemies out there, and he can't stand against any of them in a human form. Staying with Betty is the best place for him, for now. Just until he can convince her to return his grace. However, he can do a little research of his own since she's not here to chaperone. The only sounds in the house came from his bare feet hitting the wooden floorboards, and Betty's overly large pet lazily raised his head as Lucifer walked into the kitchen. The furry beast is still wary of him, as if he can sense who Lucifer really is. Maybe he can. Doesn't matter.

The ugly yellow refrigerator was old and sturdy, but he got it to move by steadily pushing on its side with his shoulder. It moved easily once it got going, and he ran his eyes over the large door leading to the basement. There isn't a doorknob; instead, there's a keypad. He watched Betty lock the door behind her when he was first brought up, and he carefully entered the same numbers. _**8-2-0-6**_. He has no idea what the numbers represent, and he doesn't care. The basement door swung open, and he looked down the steps that led into the basement. He's sure he can find some answers down here about the spells that Betty used to bind him and his grace; he might even be able to find a way to reverse it. He took a step forward and was forcefully pushed back. His feet slid across the floor a few feet, and his eyes narrowed at the empty doorway. He raised a hand and tried to reach past the doorway, but something was blocking him. She blocked the doorway. He got as close as he could but still couldn't see anything, so he slowly knelt down. Along the doorway, on the side he couldn't touch, was a blue line. Something to keep him from crossing over.

"That clever witch," he growled as he stood back up. She must have known what he would try to do and prepared for it. Did she do it because she has something to hide or just to piss him off? With her, either was a possibility. He pushed the refrigerator back into its place, and something fluttering over the freezer door caught his eye. A piece of paper, with his name scrawled across the top. She left him a note.

_Lucifer,_

_Don't bother trying to get into the basement. Only I can pass through. The house is yours while I'm gone. Feel free to do whatever, and feed Laz for me. Be a good little angel. _

_B_

He's certain that he's never hated a being as much as he hates the woman lying dead upstairs, but even he has to admit that she's good. Too good. With a quiet sigh, he fed and watered the dog. Before leaving the kitchen, he picked up the old radio. He's never really liked silence. The stairs creaked a little under his weight as he moved back up to Betty's room, and he plugged up the radio and set it on the bedside table next to her alarm clock. Seven forty-eight, on the dot. Music filled the room as he moved over to the massive bookcase taking up the back wall, and he picked a book at random. The pillow he used to smother Betty was propped up against the headboard so he could lean back against it, and he raised a knee to lay the book against. He's in for a long and incredibly boring twenty-three hours and thirty-eight minutes.

* * *

**Finis:** Another chapter down! For anyone who's confused, remember that there are three days between Chapters 38-39 of _Grace_. Those three days aren't covered in the original story, because it's just Emma and Gabriel doing their bonding thing in the salvage yard while the Winchesters and Cas putter around. In this story, there's a lot of activity during those three days. In the next chapter, we'll get to see what Betty is up to in Heaven!

Thank you, as always, to everyone reading!

Song used is _My Angel Put The Devil In Me_ from the Doctor Who soundtrack. You should really listen to it.


	9. Harvelle's Roadhouse

**TIB: **Surprisingly, there are no warnings for this chapter. Don't worry, the warnings will be back in the next chapter.

**Sabie0521:** Thank you for the review! This chapter is all about Heaven, so I hope you enjoy it!

**EmmaMarie: **I am so glad that someone caught that! And I thought I was being sneaky. lol. Yeah, it's kind of like a parallel. All of the other humans in the human-angel pairings have a handprint from being _saved_, but Betty has a handprint from something else entirely. So it shows the differences between the relationships. There's not a really deep meaning behind it; I just like the contrast. Thank you for the review!

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**Harvelle's Roadhouse**

* * *

Betty's Heaven is pretty standard, considering exactly who she is and what she's done. There was a period during her teen years where she was convinced that she was going to Hell when she died. Somewhere between fourteen and fifteen, back when Josie was still alive and around to snap her out of her head. How could she get into Heaven with so much blood on her hands? Some of it came from things that weren't human, but she'd killed her fair share of innocents by the time she was fourteen. Sometimes it was an accident, another casualty of the life, but most were on purpose. For a purpose. She was shown a time when they wouldn't be innocent, but the lives she took were still wholly human. What kind of God would allow a murderer into His house? It was Josie that explained it. _Of course you'll go to Heaven, Betty Fay. You're doing His work, and He will reward you. He will grant you peace._

"Josie!" The little girl's thick voice, caused by a mild cold, caused the name to come out as _Dozie_. Even at four years old, she walked with her shoulders straight and with sure steps. Suddenly, a woman appeared from behind a tree and snuck up behind her. The small child squealed as she was spun around in the air, and the woman's loud laughter blended in with the little girl's.

This is when she was the happiest. Parked at an empty clearing, with trees running along a water bank, and playing with Josie. The woman really did love her; she must have to have raised Betty as her own. It's too bad that Josie had been unable to have kids. She'd been a wonderful mother, even if Betty didn't always appreciate her the way she deserved. None of that matters now. Josie is at peace, somewhere here in Heaven, and it's not really Betty's time. That's why she's not fully submersed in the memory. She won't be feeling any peace today. Betty Fay has a job to do.

A dirt path appeared before her, and her heavy boots didn't stir up a single grain of sand as she started trekking. She only has twenty-four hours to get this right, and she knows where she has to go. The sounds of laughter faded behind her as she began to run, and all she could hear was the pulse rushing through her ears and the sound of her boots on the ground. There's no time to slow down. She's on a time limit, and she has to find them. This shouldn't even be possible; does He really want her to go against every rule he's ever laid down? Is she being tested along with that temperamental son of his?

She ran for what felt like days but might have only been minutes; there's no set time in Heaven. Hell has its own accelerated time, so does Purgatory, but Heaven is what you make it. A day can exist within a minute; a lifetime in a second; an hour stretched into a week. Time is endless here, therefore, it's very confusing. Heavy boots slid in the dirt and a few blades of grass brushed against the steel toes. She's reached the end of her road, literally. Thick grass is spread out before her, there's some trees and bushes, and the roadhouse is looming above her. Symbols cover the wood, but there's still a fluorescent sign hanging over the covered porch entrance. _Harvelle's Roadhouse_.

Betty quickly moved into the building, and she pressed her back up against the door once she was inside. Several pairs of eyes, some familiar and some not, were focused on her with laser-like intensity. The entire bar area was quiet, except for the quiet crooning of an old jukebox. Looks like they're not used to someone just busting in, and she gets that. Normally she'd use a little more finesse, but she doesn't have time for that. She needs to get this done. While she was looking around, the small sea of people parted for two women to walk through. The older woman had brown hair brushing against her shoulders, and the brown eyes looking into Betty's own were threaded with steel. The woman standing next to her was younger, much younger, with blonde hair and those same steely brown eyes. A man walked up behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, and Betty had to tip her head back a little to meet his light hazel eyes. The man stands at a very impressive six-six, so he towered over the two women.

Yes, the Harvelles make a very pretty picture.

"Is that you, Betty Fay?" Ellen's voice was warm as it carried across the bar to her, and Betty quirked her lips up into a smile.

"The one and only," she said and spread her arms.

"Betty!" She caught a flash of flying blonde hair before arms wrapped tight around her neck, and Betty reached up to lightly pat her hands against the overly strong woman's back. She's pretty sure Jo wasn't this strong the last time they hugged. Then again, that was nearly fifteen years ago, back when Josie was alive. Jo's also been dead for going on three years.

"Finally got on the chopping block?" Jo released her so that she could look up at Bill Harvelle, and she smiled at the older hunter. She never got a chance to reply.

"She's only visiting. Isn't that right, Hogan?"

"Good to know that whole psychic thing still works up here. Miss me, Barnes?" Pamela's hips swayed as she walked forward, and the two of them reached forward to grasp each other's forearms.

"Not even a little."

"Been quieter with you gone too," she grinned. She has a lot of history with the people in this room; why is that everyone she's ever liked is dead? Well, there's a few exceptions still down on Earth, but they don't know her like these people do.

"You know where Adam is?!" Ash's head popped up over the bar, and his hazy eyes were filled with worry. Possibly conspiracies.

"Yeah, he's alright. We should talk. All of us." She looked around at all of the people surrounding her, and it was Ellen that nodded everyone's consent. That must be what Ash was waiting for.

"Just step into my office," he said with a wave of his arm. Ellen and Bill walked off first, but Jo stayed by her side as she started walking. Huh, maybe she was missed. Pam paused to talk to a blonde woman, Adam's mother, to assure her that she'd get news on the woman's son. A moment later, they were all seated at a table in the backroom. Her, Ash, Pam, and the three Harvelles.

Betty first met Bill Harvelle and his new bride when she three years old, right after Josie took her in. Josephine Harvelle couldn't resist showing off her new little girl to her big brother, and she remembers the way that Ellen hugged her close and fed her cookies until she got sick. Bill and Josie were both hunters, so they always went their separate ways after a day or two. Betty remembers enjoying the visits when she was little; it was like having a real family. She was even there when Ellen gave birth to her one and only child, which is lucky since she went into labor in the roadhouse. Josie wound up delivering the little girl with a little five year old Betty holding onto Ellen's hand because Bill was on a vampire hunt. Ellen named her daughter after the two of them. Joanna was called Jo, to honor her aunt, and the Beth came from Betty's real first name. _Elizabeth_. They stopped by for years, until Josie passed away only two years after her brother.

Seventeen. She'd been seventeen when Josie died, and she cut herself off from everyone. She didn't want to see the people that reminded her of the woman that was now gone, so she stayed away. She bumped into Ash over the years, accidentally on purpose, to hear news about how the Harvelle women were doing. She retired a year before Ash died, so she didn't see him at all in the year leading up to his death. As for Pam, well, psychics tend to know about each other. It's like their own little secret club. They support each other while trying to outdo one another, but they always stick up for their fellow freaks. Pam was by far her favorite psychic around, until the Winchesters got her killed. A Winchester was involved in the deaths of everyone in this room. Even hers, a little indirectly.

"What's happening out there, Betty?" Pam asked. Here comes the hard part. She can only reveal morsels of the whole truth, because it's not time yet.

"We've got another Apocalypse on our hands." The table let out a collective groan, except for Ash, who was crowing about how he knew it.

"Settle down!" Ellen snapped out. Bill smiled over at his wife, and the two linked hands on the tabletop. At least someone up here is happy.

"The angels have been confined to the Earth, so they can't get into Heaven. They can't even march into Hell. The demons are in a civil war, and the angels have split off into several factions. Purgatory was opened, so the monsters we risked our lives to kill are walking free again. If you thought last time was bad, you ain't seen nothing yet."

"And the Winchesters?" Ellen asked.

"Right in the middle of it all. They've got some angel power backing them up, but it's still going to be a close one. I'm here because they need help." Something close to it, anyway. Betty's half convinced that they'll fail and that the world really will end this time, but she's always been a realist bordering on pessimistic.

"Is that why they took Adam?" Pam asked. Adam…the youngest Winchester, no matter how much he may hate the title.

"The angels sent him to Earth to protect him, because Michael can use him as a vessel. A true vessel. Don't worry, he's safe. He's on his way to the older two, and they won't let anything happen to him." Well, he's as safe as he can be while running from angels and demons that want to kill him. Or worse. He's also somehow managed to get an incredibly powerful Nephilim for a sidekick, so he's pretty well protected. No point in telling them that he nearly died and was going to be cast into Hell, where no angel would be able to reach him.

"What kind of help do you need, Betty?" Bill asked. Jo was quiet and lightly tapping the table with her fingers, and Ash was pounding away at a keyboard.

"A prophet is going to be chosen soon, and he needs to be protected. He'll be able to set the angels free, lock up Hell for good, and close the door to Purgatory. Without him, there's no way the good guys will win. They've already killed all the other potential prophets. He's the only one left."

Seeing that took a lot out of her. There's always several potential prophets spread across the globe just in case _one_ dies. There's no contingency plan for what happens when an entire generation is wiped out, and they're going to need him to _can'tknowyetlookawaybettyfay. _She can't see that part; she just knows it's important. The why doesn't matter anyway. If he dies, they all die. It's as simple as that. There's also no one out there that can truly protect him. Angels are trying to kill him as well as demons, and every other supernatural creature, and a normal hunter won't be able to get the job done either.

"You didn't come here to give us the _Downstairs Daily_. You need something." Betty met Pam's once blind eyes across the table, and the other psychic pinched her lips into a small line. "No, you need someone."

"We've played our part," Ellen said quickly. Betty has seen her death, seen Jo's. Felt the agony of claws and a sharp blast of heat. She doesn't _want_ to do this. She _has_ to. (If she doesn't, she'll never get to have her peace.)

"I know you have." Ellen's eyes darted over to Jo, and the blonde hunter raised her eyes to her mother's. "It has to be a revived hunter with their soul bound to the prophet. It'll strengthen them. The only way they'll be able to die is if the killing blows hit them at the same time, or until He decides it's time for them to rest."

"I thought angels were the only ones that could raise the dead," Ash muttered from behind his laptop.

"They are," Betty answered. Angels and demons, and it always comes with a price. Always. "However, in special circumstances, it can be done by someone else. Someone human."

"No."

"Mom—"

"I said no, Joanna Beth!"

"I have to help!"

"Why you?!"

"Because I wasn't finished!"

Betty watched as mother and daughter faced each other down, and Bill kept silent next to his wife. This is something they have to work out together. The last time there was an Apocalypse, Ellen had to watch her daughter die. Slowly. Painfully. Jo died bloody, and Ellen can still feel the heat here in Heaven. They both tried to do the right thing, to help the Winchesters and save the world, and they paid the price. Gave their lives and found peace. Found Bill. And Ash. The Roadhouse. It has to be Jo. Betty's not sure why He decided to pick Jo, maybe to test Betty, but it has to be her. Nearly all the hunters in Heaven are right where they want to be. Their souls have become content and soft, but not Jo's. Her soul is as bright and strong as ever; she's pretty much the only one that can actually survive being pulled out of Heaven.

"For what it's worth, I'll die before she does. And if everything else falls into place, she'll have a good life. She'll be happy. When she comes back here, there'll be gray in her hair and laugh lines next to her eyes." It's a beautiful image, but a blood soaked one is hiding just behind it. If they fail, Heaven and Hell will be overrun with souls.

"I'm gonna grow old?" Jo was looking at her now with a small smile on her lips, and Ellen was flicking her eyes between the two of them.

"Being bound to someone doesn't make you immortal. Just really hard to kill," Betty smiled back.

"It's also volatile and dangerous," Pam pointed out.

"This time it will work. The pieces fit." It's so hard to explain it all, since she barely understands any of it herself.

"I don't like it," Ellen said and crossed her arms.

"I know. I don't either, but I don't want to watch the entire world die screaming. That's how it'll end. It won't be quick or quiet," Betty said with a look right at Ellen. The older woman was a hunter too when she met Bill Harvelle; she knows the sacrifices that hunters have to make for the good of the rest of the world. This is something that Betty would never ask for on her own, not of them anyway, but she knows what she saw. She doesn't want _that_ world to become her reality.

"Still don't have to like it." Ellen's still tense and very obviously worried, but there's understanding in her eyes now.

"Why don't you three go talk it out? I need to have some words with Ash and Pam anyway."

"Sounds good. See you soon, cuz." Jo ruffled the back of her hair as she stood up, and Betty lightly elbowed the little brat before smoothing her hair back into place. It never mattered to Jo that Betty was clearly adopted; the younger girl always insisted that they were cousins and that was that.

A few moments later, the Harvelles were out of the room and it was a little quieter. Except for Ash's muttering and banging every time his laptop did something he didn't like. Pam was watching her with dark eyes, probably trying to get a read on her, and Betty let herself relax. This part isn't any easier to talk about in the grand scheme of things, but it's easier for her. She cares about the Harvelles, she's pretty sure that she loved them when she was younger, so asking Bill and Ellen to say goodbye to their daughter is hard for her. Asking Jo to return to Earth and put herself back in the thick of things is hard to do, because it's personal. She might have kept away from them after Josie's death because it's easier to be alone, but that doesn't mean she's forgotten them. This next part isn't going to be easy in any kind of way, but she knows that she can trust Pam and Ash to do the job.

"What do you need from us, Betty?" She blinked as she came out of her thoughts and realized she was still looking into Pam's dark eyes.

"I'm not the one who's going to need your help," Betty said with a twitch of a smile. Pam's eyes opened a little wider and then she was smiling too.

"A new soul in Heaven with a job to do. He's got you working overtime, huh?" Overtime, yeah. Maybe she's being paid back for deciding to retire and take herself out of the fight. Betty leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, and she felt the metal container hanging from her neck bump up against the table. Definitely working overtime.

"I told you the angels are locked out of Heaven, but I didn't say how."

"Gonna tell us now?" Ash asked and looked at her from over his laptop. He's looking a little rough, which shouldn't even be possible in Heaven, and it's because he's worried. Worried about Adam, the angels, the state of Heaven…everything.

"An angel did a spell in the heart of Heaven, and it cast the angels down." And one angel was cast _up_. "A girl is going to come here, named Charlie. Heaven will sing her praise when she gets here, and she'll be the one to reverse the spell. I need you to find her when she gets here and take her to the heart of Heaven."

"The heart of Heaven? Where's that? In the center of Heaven or…?" Pam trailed off, and Betty shrugged. She wasn't given a map of Heaven, just the words.

"Up and to the left from the center," Ash mumbled. Pam and Betty locked eyes, and it only took the space of a heartbeat for them to start laughing. Ash startled at the suddenly loud sound, and it took them both a minute to get themselves under control again.

"So you'll find her and take her there?" Betty asked them.

"We'll take care of her, don't worry," Pam said with a little nod. Good. That's good. Her job here is nearly done.

"And, Pam? Tell Kate that Adam is going to be just fine, and that she'll see him again someday." Betty hopes that will be Adam's future. If things downstairs take a turn for the worse, Adam will end up like everyone else. _Her world is red._

"I will. Thanks, Betty." She nodded to the other psychic, but she felt a dark pit swirling in her stomach. No one should thank her. There's too much blood on her skin for her to ever be someone worthy of a simple _thanks_.

**.xXx.**

"I still don't like this," Ellen said and propped her hands on her hips. The three Harvelles were back in Ash's office, for lack of a better word, and Betty was standing in front of Jo.

"It's what she wants," Bill said quietly. He was standing behind his wife and had both hands on her shoulders, and she reached one hand up to lay on top of his.

"After you're revived, you'll be drawn to the prophet. Let your instincts lead you. He probably won't trust you at first because he's been on the run, so take it easy on him. After you find him, go to Bobby's. That's where the Winchesters are now, and they'll help both of you. Whatever you do, don't mention me. You don't know me, you don't know who sent you back. All you know is that you woke up on Earth with a memory of a voice telling you to find the prophet. You decided to bring him to the Winchesters for safety, and to find out what the hell is going on. Got it?"

"Got it." It's a lot to take in, but Jo's always been a fast learner. Betty knows that she can do this; Jo's tough. "So, now what?"

"Now, I just need this." Betty reached up and tugged on a single strand of hair, and Jo yelped as it was yanked free. The blonde slapped at her arm as Betty laughed, because Jo has always hated having her hair pulled on.

"What do you need her hair for?" Bill asked. Betty pulled on the chain of her necklace and carefully started twining Jo's strand of hair around the small links in the chain.

"It's bound to my soul, so it'll go with me back to Earth. I'll use Jo's hair to help summon her soul and revive her."

"And when will you do that? Revive her?" Ellen asked. Jo's face was serious now as she looked at her, and Betty answered Ellen's question while looking into Jo's eyes.

"As soon as I can. It'll be morning when I get back, and I'll do the spell by nightfall." She's starting to feel a little light…like she doesn't weigh anything. It's almost time.

"Whoa…you're kinda see-through," Jo said and poked her arm. Or tried to. Her finger sunk right in, like Betty wasn't standing there at all.

"Time for me to go. When the time's right, you'll see me down there. But until then…"

"Betty who?" Jo smiled as she stepped back towards her parents, and Ash and Pam joined them so that Betty was standing on one side of the room by herself.

"See you later, Hogan." Betty parted her lips to reply, but it was too late. Everything was fading, including her.

**LUCIFER**

_Seven forty-eight._

Lucifer raised Betty's head off the pillow and tipped her head back, and the light brown liquid easily flowed down her throat. Once the bottle was empty, he laid her head back in the dent on the pillow and leaned away so that he could watch her. He's barely left her side since yesterday morning; he's taken time to eat and shower, fed the dog again, but he always returned to her room. He thought about sleeping in his own room, but the house was too silent. Lazarus even slept on the porch outside last night, as if he could sense that there was something wrong with his master and didn't want to be in the house with her empty body.

Slowly, her chest started to rise. One breath. Two. Three. Her eyes twitched under her lids and her eyelashes flickered, and he waited for her eyes to open. It took a few more slow breaths but then dark brown eyes were staring up at him. She looked confused for a moment, almost as if she couldn't believe that he actually revived her. He may be many things, but he's not a liar. He said he would revive her, and he has. He had to revive her, because this death was completely unsatisfying.

"Luci, I'm home," she hoarsely whispered. For a moment, he heard his brother's voice shouting the same words.

"Welcome back, Betty Fay."

* * *

**Finis:** Whew! That was kind of hard to write. For those of you who are curious, I went through and created a timeline for the stories and _Supernatural_. So, all the dates of deaths are accurate. I'm not just making up numbers and forcing it to work; it's all been carefully planned out. (And the timeline is _so_ long.)

For those of you who love the Betty/Luci interactions, I promise they'll be back in the next chapter! I've gotten used to writing for them together, so it was a little strange to have Betty all by her lonesome. I missed writing for Lucifer, which is a strange thought to have.

Thank you so much to everyone reading!


	10. It Doesn't Matter

**TIB: **There's a few descriptions of not nice things in this chapter, because Lucifer is feeling cranky.

**Sabie0521:** Thank you for the review! And another thank you for the sweet words! Writing about Heaven was interesting, and I'm glad you liked it. I was a little nervous about reactions. Actually, Josie's death will be brought up in a chapter pretty soon. I can tell you that she was killed on a hunt, so she went out like a true hunter.

**EmmaMarie: **Thank you for reviewing! I know this is a side story, but it's nice to get reviews for it too. Josie will be brought up again, but I'm not sure about an actual appearance. Anything is possible though. Oh lordy, I actually had a bad sinus infection and my taste buds were screwy…so no food. Don't worry, I made up for it in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**It Doesn't Matter**

* * *

**BETTY**

Bright blue eyes were looking down into her own, and it was almost like looking up at the sky. If the sky had evil intentions. She raised a hand up, and Lucifer slowly pulled her into a sitting position. She noticed the glass and book on her bedside table, and Lucifer was only wearing a pair of loose sleep pants and a plain white tee shirt. He stayed here, next to her, the whole time she was gone. In one way it's kinda nice to know that her body wasn't left unprotected, but it's also a little alarming to know that the devil himself slept next to her. Even if her soul was on a field trip.

"Did you behave?" Lucifer's fingers lightly wrapped around her wrist as he raised her arm up higher, and he twisted around to grab the glass off the bedside table. He pressed it into her hands, and Betty greedily drank the water down. She trusts Lucifer not to poison her drink, mostly because poison would be too quick and impersonal. He wants to feel her death.

"I fed the dog and even finished washing the dishes." A smile can convey so many different emotions, and Lucifer's is screaming smugness. There's something else though, like he wanted her to be…she doesn't know. Happy about him behaving? Or proud? Lucifer tapped the end of her nose, and she forced her eyes to stay straight when they threatened to cross.

"What?" Lucifer's head tilted to the side as he looked at her, and he's still smiling.

"You looked dazed. Still have your head in the clouds?" Funny. She shifted around so that she was sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, and he twisted so that they were sitting hip to hip with their feet on the floor.

"Did you try to go into the basement?" Something dark flashed in his eyes, and Betty felt a little more settled. There's the Lucifer she knows and puts up with. In all honesty, there's nothing in the basement that she needs to hide from him. There is no way to reverse a binding spell, not the one that keeps his grace locked to her soul or them in close quarters. Only she can remove his grace and only she can separate them. (The grace has to be removed willingly, and they'll be unbound when she dies.)

"What would I need from the basement?" She gripped his shoulder and used it to push herself into a standing position, and she twisted at the hips to listen to her back pop and to look down at him.

"I've got a sturdy axe down there that I'm sure you would just love," she said and twisted around the other way. That's better. Her body was starting to feel pretty stiff.

"The one above the cot?" She hummed an answer and continued to stretch out her lax muscles. "It complements your skull perfectly."

"Really? It doesn't make my cheeks look fat?"

"Just a little rosy." His grin belonged on a shark, and Betty felt like they were back on even ground.

She shooed him out of the room then, and he went down the stairs with a quiet huff. Laz's doggy door banged open as she was pulling her black tee shirt over her head, and Lucifer's quiet greeting and the sound of dog food being poured into a bowl reached her as she yanked her boots off. It took some struggling to get the tight jeans off, and she sighed a little in relief once she was stripped down to just her bra and panties. One of the biggest perks of being retired, now semi-retired, is that she doesn't have to wear tight clothes. She can wear loose dresses in soft colors, and—

"See something you like?" She looked the edge of her bedroom floor and down into the living room, where she could see Lucifer propped up against one of the couches. If he was in the kitchen where he was supposed to be, she wouldn't be able to see him. If she took two steps back into her room, he wouldn't be able to see her. He didn't move, and neither did she.

"You don't have any scars." He took a bite out of an apple after the simple statement, and Betty looked down at her body. Her tan skin is smooth and doesn't have a single scar on it, because she's been very careful for the past six years. Before she retired, her body was riddled with scars. She had to wear jeans and long-sleeved shirts to avoid any stares, and she had to constantly keep her hair in her face so people wouldn't see the long scar that cut across her left eyebrow and traced down her cheek to her lips. It's why she keeps her hair up so much now. Because she can.

"Got rid of 'em when I retired. Sweet little demon owed me a favor, and I cashed it in to get myself scrubbed clean. He did a good job, huh?" she asked and held her arms out. Her skin has turned golden from long days spent out in the sun, and the strong lines of her muscles have softened into curves. Not that she isn't still strong; the muscles under her skin are still perfectly honed. Just in case.

"Where's the demon now?" He's still eating his apple and looking up at her like they're discussing the weather.

"Dead." He smiled around his next bite, and she watched the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

"You're not completely unscathed though, are you?" He cocked a brow as he talked, and Betty quickly looked down. Her eyes got caught on the dark fabric still clinging to her skin, and she felt her lips twitch. Does her lingerie match the bruises on her throat?

"I guess not. Feel up to cooking breakfast? I'm starving," she called down as she moved into her closet. She's out of his sight now, but it still feels like his eyes are tracking her every movement.

"Dying always makes people hungry. I'll make biscuits." She shook her head at the odd situation and picked out something to wear. The dress she slid on was a pale pink with three little buttons running down the chest, and she lightly trailed her fingers along the useless decoration. As a hunter, she wore clothes for their functionality. Now she wears sundresses with buttons that it doesn't need. She piled her hair on top of her head and revealed the thin straps holding the dress up. On a whim, she plucked out a pair of light gray leggings and pulled them on too. They stopped halfway down her calves, so she didn't feel too confined.

Laz ran to greet her once she reached the bottom of the steps, and she took a minute to sit down and love on the big lug. He mostly held still as she wrapped her arms around him and just held on, but his tail was wagging so much that his whole furry body moved with the motion. She let him go once she heard the bacon sizzling, and her stomach quietly rumbled at the smell. She patted Laz on the head, rubbed her stomach, and walked into the kitchen. Lucifer was standing at the stove, still in his pajamas, and cooking up a storm. Nick must have been one hell of a cook. She tore her eyes away from the devil and walked over to the fridge. Her note is still taped to the freezer door, and she smiled a little as she reached up. Her phone was right where she left it, and she slowly walked over to the kitchen table.

"Smells good," she called out as she sat down.

"The only thing Nick could do was cook breakfast and grill steak." Looks like she was only half-right about Lucifer's vessel.

"Remind me to buy steaks when we go grocery shopping." Lucifer grunted in place of an answer, and Betty looked down at her phone. She doesn't really want to do this, but she's going to need them. She sent identical texts to Mimi and Tyler, that simply read: **come to my house at 11pm and not a minute before**.

"Do we have any plans for today?" Lucifer asked as he set a plate down in front of her. Two biscuits packed with sausage, bacon, and eggs. He walked off to fix them both something to drink, and Betty took her first bite. Delicious. Of course it is.

"We do actually. A lot of plans. Do you like car rides?" His brows raised at that, but he'd just taken a bite of his own biscuit so he kept quiet. "I guess it doesn't matter, because we're going on one. Gotta make a basement trip first. You might want to get dressed."

"No nudity on car rides?" he asked.

"Not today. Maybe next time." She gave him a quick wink, which only made his grin a fraction wider. She can play his game and make him think that she's falling for his schemes, because she knows what he really wants. When she reached to grab her phone off the top of the fridge, he imagined how bright her blood would look against the pale yellow color. It doesn't matter how nice or pleasant he acts, he's always waiting for her death. He might be waiting patiently for now, but that doesn't mean he's ready to _be_ nice. He's only playing at being nice.

They finished their breakfast pretty quickly, and she pointed towards Lucifer's room once they were done. He placed their dirty dishes in the sink and left the kitchen, and Betty pushed against the fridge. She knows that Lucifer tried to go downstairs, just like she knows that killing her yesterday on her orders left him feeling completely unsatisfied. She punched in her code, that Lucifer knows, and smiled at her invisible barrier. She traced a single finger over the air where the barrier was and felt it when she was allowed access. A harsh light filled the room, and the metal stairs were cold against her bare feet.

Most of the supplies that she needed were in a giant footlocker, so that's where she went. She carefully pulled out what she needed, and most of them were placed into a good-sized messenger bag. It's something that can blend in easily and not look suspicious, because who looks for magical supplies in a messenger bag covered with flowers? (_Who looks for weapons in a free hugs shirt?_) Betty shook off the errant thought and snagged a bottle filled with a thick red liquid, just as she heard footsteps on the stairs. Right on time. She grabbed a tin container and two small bottles before turning around, and Lucifer's eyes were locked on hers.

"Do you know how to drive?" Blue eyes disappeared as he took in a slow breath, and he was smiling when he opened his eyes.

"I do now." He's using Nick's memories again, but she can't really complain this time. Not when she needs him to drive.

"Good, because we've got a long one ahead of us. Ready to go?" He eyed the bag hanging next to her hip and the bottles in her hands, and she smiled as she walked past him to the stairs.

"Where are we going?" She could hear him following behind her, close enough to touch, but she kept her steps steady and even. She's not scared of the devil.

"And ruin the surprise? Go grab the teapot from the cabinet for me?" she asked they left the basement. She could feel the heat from Lucifer's heat at her back, and she looked over her shoulder and up. Why couldn't he have picked a smaller vessel?

"What's the magic word?" His blue eyes are still colder than anything she's ever come across, and she tracked down a yeti once.

"Now." Ice cut through her as he glared, and she tipped her chin up the smallest bit. The only way to survive the devil is to never back down, and he bowed his head the smallest fraction before walking across the kitchen. Betty quickly traced the wards back over the basement entrance, slipped one of the bottles into a hidden pocket of her dress, and she was pushing the fridge back into place when Lucifer turned around.

"Why do you need a teapot?" He placed it on the counter between the sink and stove, and she sat down the tin container and small bottle next to it.

"For when we get back. Did you feed Lazarus?"

"Yes, I fed the beast. Is there anything else I can do for you?" His words were sickly sweet, and she was tempted to ask him to go fetch her shoes. There's no point in riling him up now; she'll wait until they're on the road.

"No, you've done a good job so far. Wouldn't want to overwhelm you." A growl rumbled in his chest as she walked by, and she ducked her cheek close to her shoulder to hide her smile until she was completely past him. Her shoes were sitting at the foot of the bed, and she quickly slid on the sandals before grabbing her keys from the drawer of her bedside table. On a whim, she picked up a black cardigan off the back of a couch. It can get chilly riding in the Jeep. Lucifer was waiting for her on the front porch, and she stopped next to him so that they could look out across the yard.

"It's peaceful here." The only thing they can see from the front porch is grass, trees, and the dirt path that makes up her driveway. There's nothing above them but an endless blue sky and fluffy white clouds.

"That's why I chose it." She could feel him looking at her, could even see a flash of blue from the corner of her eye, but she didn't look over. Instead she walked down the stairs and headed towards the Jeep. She moved over to the passenger side, and Lucifer paused in front of the hood.

"Why is it yellow?" Betty looked at the bright yellow paint job and shrugged before answering, "Just wanted something bright."

She tossed the keys over, and Lucifer caught them with a graceful sweep. Since she doesn't lock anything, Betty swung herself up into the passenger seat and carefully placed her bag in the floorboard. Lucifer started it up a minute later, and she gave him the first direction. Turn left. They're in for a long ride, so she leaned her head back against the seat and smiled as she felt the wind running across her skin. She loves having such an open vehicle; she can feel the wind as it rushes past her and bask in the sun a little. It's nothing like a hunter's vehicle, which is closed off to hide weapons and sometimes bodies. Or parts of bodies. It's completely different, and she loves it.

"Can I turn the radio on?" She also loves the quiet, but it's going to be a very long drive.

"Knock yourself out."

**LUCIFER**

They were a little over three hours into their drive when Betty started pulling stuff out of her bag, and Lucifer flicked his eyes over at her. Just for a moment, because he had to keep watching the road. She laid a short and very thin board over her lap, placed a single sheet of paper on the board, and set a dark bottle in the cup holder. Next she pulled out a thin paintbrush, and Lucifer felt his eyebrows raising. She's making him drive so that she can paint? She tapped the end of the paintbrush against the paper seven times, whispered something under her breath that he couldn't hear over the rush of the wind, and unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

"Taking an art class?" She looked up at him as she dipped the end of the paintbrush into the bottle, and the ink was a startling color of red against the white paper.

"Dragon's blood ink and there's a little bit of butterfly wings mixed into the bristles." She waved her paintbrush at him before making another red line against the page, and he thought the ingredients over.

"What are you up to, Betty Fay?" Since he was stopped at a stop sign, he turned his upper half towards her and met her brown eyes head on. She hasn't told him a single thing, and he's tired of just blindly following her.

"You need to go straight."

"Betty—"

"Straight ahead, Lu, and I'll tell you." He felt his teeth grinding against each other and felt a dull ache starting to pound in his jaw. He _hates_ this human prison that he's been locked away in. Everything he does hurts or has the potential to hurt; he's constantly having to tend to its needs; he's so weak that he can't even get a single mortal woman to bend to his will.

"Are you going to tell me today or next week?"

"Ooh, someone is feeling feisty today." _Betty on her knees, deep cuts on her cheeks that show where tear tracks would be, arms hanging uselessly from the sockets_. "Fine! I'll tell you. No need to be so overdramatic. I'm creating a binding spell."

"Like the one you used to bind us?" It's good to know that if he concentrates just right, he can make sure that Betty hears him. He might be able to use that to his advantage, especially if her mental walls are falling.

"No, I only bound our physical bodies, because you don't have a soul." She's doing a soul bind which is nearly impossible to forge by magic. Most soul binds are weak at best and formed by emotional attachments, like human soulmates. Strong, and conscious, soul binds have to be made by the two participants. (Gabriel is binding himself to a human; he's taken part of a human soul and made it his own, at the expense of his grace.)

"Who are you binding?" She has to be binding herself to someone, but who? Can her body even handle being bound to something else?

"The Prophet and a hunter named Jo. You probably don't remember her, but she was the girl killed in Carthage."

"A lot of girls were killed in Carthage." The screams could be heard for miles, if he had allowed them to be heard. The smell of blood and sulfur had been so thick in the air that he could taste it on the back of his tongue; could Betty taste it too?

"She was a hunter killed by a hellhound. Her mother sacrificed herself by blowing the bitches up." He could hear the dark teasing tone in Betty's voice and let it wash over him. Her anger is like a glass of cold lemonade on a hot day.

"I remember. Are you sure you want a dead hunter to guard the prophet?" He knows what she's doing now, and it's not possible. Using magic to force a soul bond is hard enough to drain even experienced witches; raising a dead body and then binding its soul forcefully can't be done.

"You think this is my idea?" When he looked over at her, she met his eyes for barely a second before looking upwards. Heavenwards.

"I don't think He's up there anymore."

"Still got the point across." She went back to her painting, and he watched as a face appeared. Smooth brows, small nose, pointed chin. The female hunter.

"What you want to do can't be done." She hummed a little as she started on the girl's hair.

"I'm pretty sure they said that about binding a human devil too, and here we are." She reached over to pat his shoulder and fingers brushed right over his ear. Instead of pulling her hand away, she reached even farther and lightly ran her fingers over his hair once before returning to the painting.

"Dragon's blood?" Once she starts the spell, he'll watch her. If it looks like she might be weakening to the point of death, he'll stop her.

"Strengthens most spells, and it's good for binding. As for the butterfly wings, they're good for a little bit of everything. Aiding in transformations, finding balance, helping to accept change. I need all the help I can get, right?"

"Right," he agreed quietly. She won't succeed, but he won't let her fail.

**.xXx.**

Six hours into their drive, two paintings were laying on the dashboard to dry in the sun. Betty had both feet kicked up to hold the papers down, and she's been singing along to the radio for the past two hours. Quietly, under her breath, but just loud enough for him to hear the rough cadence of her voice. She'd slid on a black jacket to ward off the chill of the wind after she finished painting, and she's been mostly still ever since. It's been hours of him driving and her sitting calmly next to him. All beings used to tremble in his presence and were too afraid to even look upon his face, but this woman relaxes fully and even touches him casually. A weak and mortal woman can _touch_ him while he can't even muster the strength to grab her thin wrist in his hand and feel the bones crumble into powder. His Father is only making him hate humans even more; how can such weak beings create so much destruction on his Father's gift?

"Turn in at Penny's Diner. Yeah, right here. Hungry?" He pulled into a parking space between a rusty truck and a minivan, and Betty had one hand on the door handle and was looking at him over her shoulder.

"Do we have time for this?" They're on a schedule, he can tell that by the way her eyes darken when she looks away. What she is going to attempt to do, will happen very soon.

"Not really. Does it matter?" When she left Jeep, he followed behind her. One day, he'll drag her broken body behind him. He looked around the diner, which had several empty booths and a few people scattered about, and Betty moved to a booth in a corner. Away from anyone else. He took his seat across from her and looked down at the menu laying on the tabletop.

"Welcome to Penny's. Drinks?" He looked up at the older woman, with her lumpy red hair and blue eye shadow, and felt a deeper hatred for humankind. _This_ is His greatest creation?

"I'll take a cup of your strongest coffee, black, and he'll have a glass of sweet tea." Betty smiled up at the older woman and cut her eyes over at him, but he just innocently smiled back. The waitress walked off, and Betty kept her eyes locked on him. She must have heard him thinking about their waitress. "Jealous?"

"I thought we had something special," Betty said in a slow drawl.

"You're still my favorite." Her eyes widened, just a bit, before she smiled at him. She's surprised. He hasn't singled out a human to hate in a very long time, she should feel special. She's not just another one of the masses, she stands out. The squeak of a shoe sounded and their waitress sat down the drinks.

"What'll it be, darlings?" The woman was holding a pad and had her pen poised, and Lucifer beat Betty to the punch this time.

"I'll have Loco Liz's Chalupa Platter, and she'll take the New Guy's Pitstop Patty Melt," he quickly ordered with a winning smile.

"And Crystal's Five-Alarm Burger to go," Betty added. The waitress glanced between them with a penciled on eyebrow raised, but she wrote down what they ordered when they just kept smiling at her. Lucifer watched her walk away and could feel a sneer threatening to overtake his face. "She had cancer; that's why she's wearing the wig and has pencil eyebrows. When she went into the hospital, her husband left her for some college girl barely in her twenties. She works here to pay off her hospital bills, and she wears the blue eye shadow because that's what her mother did when she wanted to feel pretty. The cancer is going to come back in six weeks. She'll be dead in nine weeks."

"She's dying now?" The waitress was taking another table's orders, a family with two young children, and smiling at a little boy with a milk mustache.

"We're all dying now, but…yeah, she's dying now. She knows it too; she can feel it in the way her bones ache. What do you think will last longer? The Earth or Mabel Kelley?" Betty had her chin propped on one fist while her other hand tapped out a rhythm on the table, and she looked completely disinterested in the question. Only mildly curious.

"You can't see?" Her smile was slow and hateful, because he's not the only one who hates Betty Fay. Sometimes he wonders which of them hates her more.

"I can see a lot of things. It only takes one person, one little event, to change everything. The future is what you make it." It sounded like something from a bad graduation speech, and she delivered it with fake cheer in her voice. It sounded hollow. If he tried to tear out her heart, would anything be there? Or is the pulse that he longs to feel fade beneath his hands only beating out of spite?

"You'd make a good demon." He hates demons even more than he hates humans, because demons are humans that failed spectacularly. Just like he knew they would if given the chance.

"Like you make a good human?" Their staring contest continued until their waitress, Mabel, returned. The food was placed in front of them, and the strong scent of onions and peppers was overwhelming. A large Styrofoam box was placed at Betty's elbow with a few letters scrawled across the top, and Mabel told them to holler if they needed anything else.

"You know I'm going to have onion breath for the rest of the day, right?" Betty asked before taking a huge bite of her burger.

"Then you should keep your mouth shut until the stench wears off." She managed to glare at him with puffed out cheeks, which he easily ignored in favor of his chalupa. He hates that his body has constant demands, but food isn't so bad. Not when it's done right.

As they ate, Betty told him the pasts of everyone in the diner. The secrets were whispered in between bites, and she challenged him to guess their futures based on past knowledge. Most he got right, because humans tend to be predictable, but there were a few surprises. A child that would one day lead the country into the biggest and most destructive war the world has ever seen, but only if he isn't killed in a car accident first. There's a werewolf sitting on a stool at the bar and eating a chicken fried steak; a second generation werewolf that has personally turned over fifty people. He can tell that Betty's trigger finger is itching, but she won't kill the man. She hasn't been told to, so it's not her business.

"Here's the check, darlings. Anything else I can do for you?" Lucifer looked up at the older woman as Betty assured her that they were good to go. The psychic pushed their to-go box into his hands before moving off to the cash register, and he slowly stood up as Mabel started to clean their table. Betty stopped to talk to the werewolf at the bar, so Lucifer stepped outside to wait. There was no one outside, so it was infinitely better than inside. A few moments later, the waitress stepped outside with a cup of coffee in her hands. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and he smiled politely back. It felt like his skin was cracking with the gesture, but he's playing his part. For now.

"Oh, shoot, I must have left it inside. Would you mind holding my coffee? Just for a moment?" He gripped the box of food in one hand and extended the other, and Mabel smiled as she passed the cup over and hurried off. Betty came out as Mabel was going back in, and Betty raised a brow at his full hands.

"If she could be put in a stasis, so that the cancer would stay in remission, would you do it?" Betty asked him.

"To see who would outlast who?" She shrugged, as if saying the reasoning didn't matter, and he thought it over. Mabel Kelley will be dead in nine weeks; she'll die alone and as a waitress. "She doesn't contribute anything to this life. She's simply here."

"What does that matter? She has a life. She has a daughter that thinks of her mom as her best friend, grandsons that can't wait to spend time with their Nonnie, as they call her. People in the community love her, they go to her for advice. When she dies, people will mourn and move on. She'll never leave a huge impact on the world. Won't even be remembered in a few decades. Does it matter?" She's just another human, taking up space in the world. Her life means nothing. Her death will mean nothing. She is nothing.

"I would put her in a stasis." She's nothing, so what does it matter? If she lives, it won't affect the grand scheme of things. Betty nodded, pulled a bottle out of her pocket, and dumped the contents into the coffee cup. Mabel opened the door just as Betty was slipping the bottle back into a hidden pocket on her dress, and the waitress had a cell phone in one hand.

"Thanks, darling. You got yourself a fine man here, sweetie," Mabel said as she retrieved her cup.

"Oh, he'll do," Betty said with a wink at him. The waitress waved them off, and Lucifer moved back into the driver seat of the bright yellow Jeep. Betty took the food, kicked off her sandals, and put her feet back up on the dashboard. They were quiet for the first few minutes, until he couldn't take it anymore.

"You knew that would happen," he finally said. Betty's head rolled back against the seat as she looked at him, and she held out her hand. When he just raised a brow and looked back at the road, she leaned over and snatched his hand away from the wheel. He had to compensate by quickly grabbing the wheel with his left hand, and he felt one of Betty's hands holding his while fingers traced over his palm.

"I knew something would happen, and that the choice would be yours," she said quietly. She's not tracing the lines on his palms; she's circling around them and creating her own lines.

"Her life means nothing." Fingers tapped against his palm, twice, before tickling across the surface again.

"In twelve weeks, Mabel will be trying to quiet her grandsons in the backseat and will run a stoplight. She'll t-bone another car, and that little boy in the diner will be the only casualty. He'll never reach double digits or declare any wars. Millions of lives will be saved, because you decided to save Mabel Kelley." _Millions_? He saved millions of the worthless mud monkeys? In nine weeks, Mabel would be dead, but he chose to save her. She will live long enough to kill a child, who will grow into a man capable of near genocide. Because of him.

"I didn't know that I was saving that many. I didn't think I was saving anyone." Betty's fingers slotted between his as she pressed their palms together, and she rested their now joined hands on top of her thigh. He could feel the heat from her skin through the thin material outlining her legs.

"It doesn't matter."

* * *

**Finis:** This chapter really got away from me, and I only covered about half of what I wanted in this chapter. It got too long, so I decided to cut it off there. In the next chapter, there's going to be a little more action. So, what do you think of Betty and Lucifer's changing dynamics? Fun, right? I'm going to try to work on putting some links to images on my profile page, so you can see Betty's house and Jeep. (And Laz, as well as the other characters.)

Thank you to everyone reading! You make my world go 'round!


	11. Hot And Cold

**TIB: **Only mild violence in this one, I think. It's getting hard to tell the difference.

**Sabie0521:** Thank you for the review! Writing the diner scene was so much fun but it was also really tricky. Because I wanted to make sure that it all made sense at the end, so I'm really glad you liked it! As for why Betty touches Lucifer a lot, there's a small answer in the beginning of this chapter. More will be revealed as the story goes along, but their bond does have a little to do with it.

**EmmaMarie: **I keep trying to make the chapters for this story short, but it's really not working out. I'm okay with that though, because it's fun to write. The ending was fun, but I don't think Lucifer agrees. He's a little upset. I wrote this chapter over the weekend so it was pretty good. I hope you had a good weekend as well, and thank you for the review!

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**Chapter Eleven  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**Hot and Cold**

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**BETTY**

At ten thirty-seven, the Jeep started up her old driveway. Her house is dark and quiet, but she knows that Mimi's small Prius is parked up at the guesthouse. The ex-angel knows to follow her instructions to the letter, so neither of them will be at the house for another twenty-three minutes. That gives her plenty of time to get everything ready.

At ten thirty-nine, Betty opened her front door and walked inside. As the seconds ticked over into the next minute, a hand wrapped around her loose hair and forced her head back. She pushed onto her tiptoes to ease some of the pressure off of her throat and felt the fingers dig in deeper. It's the same hand that she's spent the past six and a half hours cradling in her lap; warm skin, rough calluses, and possessed by the devil. When she touches him, the visions are stronger. They hurt more, but she's willing to take the pain if she can just _understand_. What does He want with her? Is this some big test for all of them? Is she failing? Is Lucifer?

"You tricked me." His voice was quiet in her ear, like a lover whispering sweet nothings, and she pressed her shoulders against his chest.

"Burns, doesn't it? To be on the other side?" Fingers danced across her arm, a soft touch through the fabric of the sweater she's still wearing, until he could slide his palm against her throat. The bruises are still sore, and the ache felt cold as he pressed down. "I didn't know what would happen. Not until you made your choice. That's how it works, Lu. We're both in the dark."

"You expect me to trust you?" Betty's laugh was startled out of her, and it surprised Lucifer just enough for her to turn the tables. She grabbed the wrist of the hand on her throat as she spun, and she used her other arm to brace against Lucifer's sternum and push him back. The windows rattled as his back was slammed up against the wall, and Betty pressed close since he still had one hand tangled in her hair.

"Trust me or don't, I really don't care, but I am all that you have. I am your damnation and your salvation, and you are mine. You think I wanted this? I want the devil in my house and visions showing me hundreds of different possible futures, and knowing that if I mess up my part it will all come crumbling down? I hate this just as much as you do." Her chest heaved with the weight of her confession, and his cold blue eyes never left hers once. A moment passed and their breathing slowed to match, so that they were flush against one another with every inhale.

"You don't know the future. You don't know how it will end." He sounds awed, as if just realizing that she's flawed. During the last Apocalypse, she knew the outcome. There was no doubt in her mind that Sam Winchester would overtake Lucifer and send him back to his Cage, but this time? She's not certain of anything, except her own fate. Betty Fay is going to die, whether the world keeps spinning or not.

"No, I don't. God doesn't give me all the answers." Lucifer raised a brow, because he probably already knew that part. "Now, can we get back to what we're supposed to be doing? We don't have a lot of time."

"Would you lie to me?" The fingers in her hair are loosening, starting to comb through the tangles instead of trying to rip the strands from her scalp.

"No. Not to you." There's no point in lying to him; he needs to know the truth. She may withhold things at times, but she'll never lie to him.

"Then let's get started." His other hand came up to brush her hair back, and she kept her face tipped up to look at him. The devil really does run hot and cold.

"Pick up that box of heart attack and follow me." She moved into the kitchen, flipped on a light, and took a look around. Lucifer was moving around her behind her, thinking his usual thoughts, but he's not planning on acting on them right now. Good, because she has other things to do. She filled up the teapot and moved it to the stove, slid her sweater off and laid it over a kitchen chair, and looked around for her messenger bag. She must have left it in the Jeep.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lucifer asked. She let a slow smile curve her lips as she braced her palms against the kitchen table and leaned forward a little.

"Do me a favor?"

"Do I get to kill you again?" Lucifer leaned forward in his seat, and Betty shook her head.

"Not tonight. I left my bag in the Jeep. Go get it for me?" The chair quietly scraped across the floor as he stood up, and Betty moved just her eyes as he got to his feet. He didn't say anything, just smiled at her as he slowly left the room. Once he was gone, she moved over to cabinets and hooked four big coffee cups around her fingers. The water will be ready soon, so she needs to get this done.

There was still a small bottle sitting on the counter, next to a blue tin container, and she tapped her fingers against the top of it. There's another bottle still inside her hidden dress pocket, nearly identical, but with very different mixtures. There's no time to debate if she's doing the right thing or not; the line between right and wrong was erased for her a long time ago. She twisted off the top and squeezed a few drops into two of the cups, and she was pulling tea bags out of the tin container when she heard Lucifer's footsteps. She dropped the tea bags into each of the cups and spun slowly on her heel to smile at Lucifer.

"Do you enjoy using me as a slave?" he asked as he passed the bag over. Betty slipped the strap over her head and adjusted it so that it wouldn't rub over her bruises. It'll be a couple of weeks before they fade completely, but the dull ache should be gone in a day or two. Assuming she makes it that long.

"You're not a slave, Lu. It's more like indentured servitude." She gave his shoulder a pat just as the teapot began to whistle, and she carefully poured the boiling hot water into the giant cups.

"Are we having a tea party?" The devil's got jokes. She finished pouring the water and grabbed a small spoon out of a drawer to stir it up some.

"It's rowan leaves, to open our psychic links." Heat seeped through the back of her dress as Lucifer leaned over her shoulder to watch her stir, and she elbowed him in the gut so that she could walk over to another cabinet. When she turned around with a tray in her hands, Lucifer was leaning against the counter with one hand braced against his stomach. She didn't hit him that hard, but he might still be getting used to pain.

"Is that safe?" Is it safe to open up psychic links between four people who are not on the same psychic level? Definitely not. She's going to be linked up to an ex-angel, a powerful angel's true vessel, and the devil in human form. It'll be a miracle if she lives to see daylight.

"I guess we'll find out, hmm? Grab the burger and get the doors for me," she said as she loaded the cups onto the tray. She could feel the chill of Lucifer's murderous thoughts as he walked in front of her to open the back door, and she pulled in a deep breath once she was standing on the back deck.

At eleven o'clock, she had four blankets sitting around a fire pit in the backyard and a tray of Russian roulette rowan tea. (Is it Russian roulette if you know which chambers have the bullets?) Mimi and Tyler were making their way from the guesthouse, and Betty lowered herself down onto her own blanket. She looked up at Lucifer before glancing at the blanket to her right, so that's where he sat. He scowled the entire way down, but he still sat. When Mimi and Tyler reached them, Betty told Tyler to sit next to her and for Mimi to sit next to Lucifer.

"What's going on?" Tyler asked. His eyes kept flicking over to Lucifer, who was idly shredding blades of grass.

"I need a little help with a spell. Don't worry, you don't have to actually do anything. We just have to unite ourselves with a little bit of blue string. Three rotations on each ankle." She pulled out a roll of plain blue string and wrapped it three times around her left ankle, three times around her right ankle, and passed it over to Lucifer. He did the same thing without saying a word and then passed it over to Mimi.

"Chill, Ty. Betty does this kind of stuff all the time. She's a pro," Mimi said as she wrapped the string around her ankles. She passed it over to Tyler, who looked around at all of them before reluctantly doing the same thing. He handed it back to Betty, who tied it to the string already around her left ankle and linked them all together.

"Now drink some tea. It'll keep you calm for the spell." Tyler got the green cup, Mimi got the orange one, Lucifer got the red one, and Betty kept the yellow one. She raised her cup into the air with a small smile before quickly downing her drink, and she watched over the rim of her cup as all the others downed theirs too.

"Oh, yuck! That tasted disgusting!" Mimi yelled and stuck out her tongue.

"What was that?" Tyler groaned and looked down into his empty cup. Betty watched as they both started to sway a little, then blink rapidly, and both of them fell backwards not even a full minute after draining their cups.

"What did you do to them?" Lucifer asked. The two of them set their cups back down on the tray, and Betty looked over at the two unconscious members of their group spell.

"They'll mess it up if they're awake. It's better this way," she shrugged. She put the roll of blue string back in her bag and pulled out some red string, a thin wooden stick, and the two portraits.

"You didn't roofie me?" She cut her eyes over at him as she clamped the stick between her knees and lined up the portraits so that they were face to face.

"It was tempting, and I should have, but I want you awake. Just in case." She started carefully winding the two portraits around the middle of the stick, and she had to make sure that everything stayed lined up just right.

"In case of what?" Once the portraits were completely wrapped around the stick, she used some of the red string and wrapped it around the middle of the portraits. She made seven loops and tied it off before looking over at Lucifer.

"In case of anything. That's the point, isn't it?" She laid the stick on the blanket between her spread legs, because she doesn't need the string to get all tangled up. Lucifer was looking at her, running his cold eyes over her, and she waited for him to ask.

"You're not raising the dead hunter." Looks like he doesn't have to ask.

"Even I don't have the power to raise the dead and bind two human souls in one night." A small bottle of cypress oil was pulled out of her bag, and she poured a little into her palm.

"You're going to need more than that if you want to summon Death." Betty dipped her fingertips into the oil and sprinkled it into the fire, and the flames flickered into a bright white with a few pops before returning to normal. Her eyes closed as she sent out a silent request, and Lucifer was still looking at her when she opened her eyes.

"Not if you ask nicely," she smiled.

"She's right you know." The voice was smooth and quiet, and they both looked up at the man now standing between them. Black suit, gold tipped cane, and a thin-lipped smile.

"I got you some dinner." Betty picked up the Styrofoam container with the giant burger inside, and Death carefully plucked it from her fingers. A giant black chair appeared behind him as he sat down, and he laid the container in his lap to open it up.

"Why have you asked me here, Elizabeth?" Betty lightly bit the inside of her lip at the sound of her real name and tried to think of how to phrase what she wanted.

"You summoned Death to raise the dead hunter? He doesn't do anything for free," Lucifer said without even looking up at the Reaper.

"I know that," she said in a low voice to the devil. Then she turned to look up at Death. "I have two favors to ask of you, and I'm willing to pay whatever you want."

"You should never offer that, Elizabeth. You should know better," Death chastised as he took his first bite. Just looking at the grease dripping from the burger was enough to make Betty feel almost sick, but Death seemed to enjoy it.

"I need the soul of Joanna Beth Harvelle to be returned to her body," she said first. Death nodded and motioned with a single hand for her to continue. "Celeste Middleton is going to complete the trials to seal Hell, and I want you to bring her back when she's done."

"The final test of the trials is sacrifice. If she's brought back, it's not a sacrifice." Lucifer was looking at her with eyes that were slightly widened, because she hasn't mentioned any of this to him.

"She won't know that she's going to be brought back. As far as she knows, she's going to give her life to finish the trials. She's going to give it all up to do the right thing, and I want her to be brought back." She can see that future, of the young woman smiling while the light leaves her eyes. It's all going to happen because Betty drove her right into the Winchesters' path, and she wants to fix at least one wrong before the end.

"This is a personal favor?" Death asked her. She looked at Lucifer, who's eyes screamed for her to say no, and looked back at Death.

"It is."

"Then I'll ask you for a personal favor." He held out his hand, and Betty licked her dry lips before clapping their palms together. Her jaw locked as her head fell back, and images flashed along the backs of her eyes. Words echoed in her mind like thunder, and she was panting when Death released her hand. She knows what she has to do, and she can feel the extra weight in her dress pocket. The small empty bottle isn't empty anymore, and she has another job to do.

"Deal. What do you want for Jo's resurrection?" She still sounds out of breath, and her chest feels tight. She's never received a vision from Death, but his visions still aren't as painful as the ones that He sends.

"Her body was completely destroyed when she died. It'll have to be remade from scratch. It's not something that's easy to do," Death ticked off before taking another bite of his burger. A few more bites and it'll be gone.

"What do you want?" She'll pay whatever price he demands. What choice does she have?

"If the Winchesters and their angels win, will Joanna continue to live?" Betty thought it over as she watched him chew, and her mind spun through all of the possible futures. If everything goes off without a hitch, Jo will return to heaven with gray in her hair.

"Yes, she will."

"For how long?" Another bite. Lucifer is looking between the two of them like he can't believe they're having a casual conversation, but she can't expect him to understand. When he needed Death, he bound him. It's so much easier to just ask.

"I don't know the exact year, but she'll live to old age. A few decades, at the least." Death popped the last bite of his burger into his mouth, and Betty waited patiently for him to stop chewing and swallow.

"You've cheated death time and time again, Elizabeth. If you want me to resurrect Joanna, you'll have to work for me. For a time." Her teeth ground down against one another, and she rubbed her hands against her thighs.

"What's the arrangement?"

"After your death, you will serve me as a reaper for every year that Joanna is alive. If she lives for fifty years after her resurrection, you will be one of my reapers for fifty years. After your time is up, you will be delivered to Heaven. Do you agree to the terms?" She can handle being a reaper for a few years, or decades. It's what she's been doing for most of her life anyway, and she can wait a little longer to have her peace. She needs to do this to ensure that the world doesn't end. She needs to do this for the Prophet, who is out there on his own. She needs to do this for Jo.

"I agree."

"Do you know what you're doing, Betty Fay?" Death looked over at Lucifer, but Betty couldn't read the look in his dark eyes. Lucifer apparently didn't care, because he was looking straight at her.

"I'm doing what I have to. I agree." Death leaned down in his chair and lowered his hand, and Betty immediately squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. His cool palm pressed over her sternum, and she kept her eyes open as a white light scorched against her skin. The light slowly disappeared, but the chill remained. As she took slow breaths to center herself, Death looked at the stick at her feet.

"You'll need their blood."

"I guess that means I'm up to three favors," she husked out.

"This one is on me. Wait for my return." The chair, and Death, disappeared. Betty let out a harsh breath and bent at the middle to rest her elbows on her knees, and she felt a hand making sweeping circles across her back. Two of her three companions are unconscious, so it has to be Lucifer.

"You're an idiot." His movements might be comforting, but his glacial tone isn't.

"I did what had to be done," she forced out. She knows that the cold will eventually fade away, but she's fighting back shivers right now. She didn't see this part coming. All she knew was that she needed Death and needed to do whatever was necessary, but she never imagined this.

"Your soul has been marked by _Death_." His voice was a quiet hiss, and Betty raised her head up enough to look at him. There's a look in his cold eyes that she hasn't seen before, not on him, but it's a look that's easy to recognize.

"You're jealous." Her smile completely contradicted the small flashes of pain on her face, but she couldn't help it. Lucifer is jealous, because he wants her soul. He wants to watch the life slowly seep from her body and then carve deep into her soul, but he's lost his chance now. Her soul belongs to Death, for a little while at least.

"Maybe he'll make a deal with me later so that I can have you after," Lucifer said as his hand slid away from her back. She slowly sat completely back up and lightly rubbed over the cold spot on her chest. It's starting to lessen even more now; she can breathe normally again.

"I doubt it. He hates you." Lucifer rolled his eyes at her sympathetic voice, and he was still looking away from her when Death returned a few minutes later. Betty stopped rubbing at her chest, which was nearly back to regular body temperature now, and looked up at Death.

"I'll hold up my end if you do," Death said as he handed her two vials. Betty nodded her head and went to reassure him, but he was already gone. So instead she looked at the blood in her hands and sighed. Here comes the hard part.

"I need you to hold this for me, but don't touch the paper."

"Why should I?"

"It'll make the spell go faster and then we can get this over with." Lucifer tilted his head to the side as he thought it over, deciding between his desire to be unbound from this spell and the need to see her unsatisfied, but his own wants outweighed her displeasure. He gripped the ends of the stick, and Betty poured the two vials of blood into her drained coffee cup.

"Is that sanitary?"

"Coffee cups are multipurpose," she shot back as she swirled the blood around to get it properly mixed. Once she was satisfied, she dipped her fingers into the blood and started smearing it across the paper. Once it was completely coated, she took one of the ends from Lucifer and closed her eyes.

She could feel her own energy humming just under her skin, but she needs a boost. She used the blue string wrapped around her ankles to pull energy from the others around her, and her nerve endings began to vibrate as she concentrated. She repeated the names of the two that she wanted to bind, envisioned them in her mind, and pictured a red string completely binding them together. Once she had enough power built up, she tossed the stick into the fire. She felt the heat from the raging flames on her exposed skin, but she kept focusing on her bound image until there was nearly nothing left inside of her.

It felt like thin fingers were plucking at her insides and trying to pull everything out; the spell was greedy and called for _more_. The power that she's carefully built up over the years is steadily being drawn out as the two souls are entwined closer together, and she's using the others' energies to help supplement her own. Mimi's energy tastes like apples and rain; Tyler's carries the strong scent of ashes; Lucifer's energy is the strongest of all, despite being only human for the moment. Some of her energy is devoted to holding him still so he won't disrupt her, and she can feel his hatred beating against her ribcage as the spell scrapes against her reserves of psychic energy. Lucifer tastes like lightning and smells like dead leaves and feels like ice and sounds like howling wind and looks like…

A deep blackness cut off her sight as something inside of her was tugged free, and the cold spot on her chest flared as the fire began to dim. The spell is over now. The two souls have been completely bound, in life and in death, and she let her unseeing eyes fall closed. She let go of the small tendrils of power she was drawing on, because she was careful to not take too much from the others. Just enough to keep her going. Once everything was gone except for what remained of her own power, she slowly let her tense body relax. The spell is over. She did it.

Hands caught her as she tipped back, and her eyes slowly blinked open to see Lucifer's disapproving face. She doesn't care if he disapproves, because it worked. She barely has the energy to lift her head, but it worked. She bound two souls together. Lucifer gently laid her back against the blanket, and she looked up at the night sky as she listened to him moving around. He's untying them and putting all the cups back onto the tray. Putting out the fire. He carried Mimi inside first and laid her down on one couch, and he put Tyler on the other couch. He picked her up last, and Betty felt boneless as he carried her inside and up the stairs to her bedroom.

"You could have died," he said as he laid her down on the bed. Normally that sentence in a slightly angry tone would indicate concern, and he is concerned in some way. About himself. If she dies, he loses his grace. She knew that making sure he was immobile during the spell was a good idea, even if it did take energy that she really needed. She still completed her spell.

"But I didn't." The bed rocked as he stood up, and she heard running water downstairs a moment later. He's washing out the coffee cups.

Betty closed her eyes with a smile. The devil is doing her dishes, and she completed a spell that's supposed to be impossible. It's been a good day.

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**Finis:** No Lucifer POV in this one, but he was definitely still around. The next chapter will have more of Luci's thoughts on everything. This chapter was really fun to write, because Betty got to do some magic and Death made an appearance! (I loved Death in the show, and I'm really glad that I got to write for him.) If there's any questions about this chapter, let me know!

Thank you to everyone reading!


	12. Love Is Sacrifice

**TIB:** This chapter is relatively tame, so no warnings. I think there's only one naughty thought. Shocking, I know.

**EmmaMarie: **Thank you for the review! I am so glad that someone else picks up on stuff like boneless! I mostly do it to make myself giggle, but it's nice to know that someone else likes my stories enough to see these little comparisons. (Just in case you were wondering, I will be getting back to Emma soon. And Dean's delicious breakfasts.) I hope Lucifer's POV lives up to expectations!

**Sabie0521: **Thank you for the review! Haha, most of your review will be addressed in this chapter. I hope you like all the little explanations! And Death really is the best.

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**Chapter Twelve  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**Love Is Sacrifice**

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**LUCIFER**

"What happened?" He was drying his hands off on a dishtowel when he heard the quiet question, and he looked down at the furry dog at his feet. The thing disappeared during all the spellwork, but he wandered back in when Lucifer first started doing the dishes.

"My head," a deeper voice groaned. He stepped closer to the living room and stopped just under the edge of Betty's bedroom, and two groggy pairs of eyes moved over to him. Mimi just looked a little sleepy and confused, but Tyler looked a little suspicious. Hunters always have that look. Except for Betty.

"Did everything go okay, Lu?" Mimi asked between yawns. He remembers the young angel in his garrison, all innocence and steel, and it looks like she hasn't changed much since then.

"The spell was powerful, too powerful. You two were unconscious, and Betty is upstairs resting." He slowly moved his eyes upwards, and he could see Mimi absently nodding her head.

"Why weren't you knocked out?" Tyler asked as he stood up. Lucifer cocked a brow at the young hunter but didn't say anything. He doesn't owe this human anything.

"Because he's Lucifer, _duh_. Come on, Ty, and walk me to my car," Mimi said and started tugging on the hunter's wrist. Mimi is tall for a human female, but Tyler still towers over her. Lucifer is learning that size means nothing to humans.

"But—"

"Tell Betty to let me know when she's awake? I've already closed the flower shop until next Monday, but I'll tend to the flowers until she's ready to come in." Mimi was almost to the backdoor now, with Tyler standing behind her with a dazed look on his face, and she looked at him through a curtain of blonde hair.

"I'll tell her." Mimi called out a goodnight and closed the door behind them, and Lucifer looked around.

Betty's still asleep and he's feeling a little tired himself. He's barely done anything today except for drive and sit, but this _weak_ body of his feels drained. His feet dragged as he walked down the short hallway to his own room, and he stripped his clothes off with practiced ease. His back and chest ached with the small movements, and he glanced down. There was a red mark spreading out from his sternum that looked slightly swollen, and it throbbed dully when he touched it. When Betty pushed him up against the wall, she left a mark of her own. The closest thing he's ever had to a bruise is when his vessel was crumbling, but that pain was different from this one. A crumbling vessel is a smooth pain, something buried so far under his grace that it can barely be felt at all. This…this is something crude that he can feel with every breath, now that he knows it's there.

First, the psychic tricks him into saving an insurmountable number of humans because he thought he was passing a test by allowing one single mud monkey to live another few miserable years. Now, she's left him bruised and marked, after selling her soul to Death. Her soul belonged to _him_, and she had no right to give it away to that useless horseman. He's already been robbed of so much; her soul rightfully belongs to him, and he will retrieve it when his grace is returned. The psychic can't slip away from him that easily. He'll bind Death himself again if he has to.

The blankets are starting to carry his vessel's scent, and the sheets quickly warmed up with his body heat. He spread a hand out against his sternum and felt the developing bruise throb hotly at the added pressure, even through the thick blanket and sheet. The bruises will fade. He'll watch as the mark on his chest grows darker and then fades out, but the anger and resentment he feels won't. That is only going to grow, until it consumes everything around him. Including the psychic sleeping peacefully upstairs.

**.xXx.**

The next day dawned too early and bright for Lucifer's liking, and he cursed Betty for having a house with such large windows and a severe lack of curtains. The pain in his chest felt like it went deeper as he pushed himself into a sitting position, and his back flared with heat as he sat up fully. He pulled his shirt over his head as he moved into the bathroom, and his torso twisted as he strained to see his back in the mirror. Bright red marks that were starting to purple branched out from his spine, and blue eyes narrowed at the marks. His chest was in the same condition, swollen in the shape of a thin forearm and starting to darken.

The hot water from the shower helped with the ache, and he quickly scrubbed down his vessel. Nick might not be crumbling under the power of his grace, but the vessel is still powerless and useless. It's easy to direct all of his anger at Betty; she's the one that physically bound him to this form and stole his very essence. She's the one that tells him when to jump, but the psychic isn't the one setting out the hoops. If anything, she's jumping right beside him. His Father is making Betty follow her own set list of tasks, but what is she getting out of it? Why follow His commands?

Lazarus was sitting right outside of the bathroom doorway when Lucifer stepped out of the shower, and he once again cursed the fact that he didn't have any doors. The dog was looking up at him with wide unblinking eyes, which he completely ignored as he dried himself off. He moved past the beast to his open closet, and the clothes he pulled on for the day were loose and comfortable. Gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt. This is what he has been reduced to. When he turned around, the dog was laying at his feet with its snout on its paws and its eyes looking upwards. A quiet whine cut through the air, and Lucifer narrowed his eyes. The dog isn't hungry. When he's hungry, he pushes his head gently against Lucifer's thigh and makes a quiet rumbling noise.

"You know, if I wasn't stuck in the body of a useless underdeveloped ape, I'd know exactly what you wanted," he grumbled. Dark eyes just continued to look up at him, and Lucifer ran a hand over his damp hair. He's not going to get any answers out of the dog. The living room was empty and so was the kitchen, so he went ahead and filled the beast's bowls. Food in the green one and water in the blue one. Once he was finished, he turned around but the dog was nowhere in sight. Instead the gentle brute was sitting at the foot of the ladder leading up to Betty's bedroom, and he let out another quiet whine when he realized Lucifer was watching him. When Lucifer didn't move, Lazarus growled and barked loud enough to wake the overly suspicious hunter on the other side of the lake.

"Shh, Laz. I'm okay." Betty's voice drifted down from the loft, but it sounded…off. Weak and quiet. Lucifer stepped over the furry guardian to reach the steps, and the wood felt warm underneath his bare feet. The psychic was still lying in bed, and the blanket was wrapped completely around her shaking frame.

"Cold?" The question was asked with a slow smile, because he can hear the woman's teeth chattering from where he stands.

"Bite me." _The hot splash of blood against his face as his teeth rip away the thin barrier of flesh covering her jugular. The bubbled gasp of pain and fear, weak fingers clawing at his shoulders as blood pours from her with every strangled beat of her heart._ "Sounds kinky."

"I thought you might enjoy that," he said as he slowly made his way across the room. The skin under her eyes was stretched thin and slightly darker than her uncharacteristically pale face, but her eyes still held the same fearless look.

"You got one thing wrong." Her eyes stayed locked with his as he lowered himself onto the bed, and he watched the way that the blanket seemed to ripple with her every shake.

"Mmm? What's that?" She looks so weak and frail right now; even in this inept skin sack, he'd be able to easily subdue her. There's something about that image that sits heavily in his gut. He doesn't want to _easily_ subdue her. He wants to feel her fight and then watch as she's slowly broken down, bit by bit.

"I'd never gasp in fear. Pain, sure, but fear? Not ever gonna happen." Her teeth locked together at the end of her sentence as her body gave another hard shake, and he reached out a hand to lightly cup her cheek. She was cold to the touch, colder than any human should be.

"It's my fantasy. If I want to hear you gasp and cry out in fear, I can," he said quietly as she turned her cheek into his palm. She's seeking out his warmth. How…ironic.

"Isn't it more fun if it's realistic? You can hear me cry out in anger or frustration. Maybe even mockery." She's smiling up at him, with chattering teeth, and talking about her future torture. Maybe, just maybe, he'll keep her around as a pet instead of killing her immediately. He can spend _years_ breaking her.

"Are you sure you know what a fantasy is?"

She's curled up on the far end of the bed, nearly falling off the edge, so he moved closer to the middle. The pillow he grabbed looked like the one he smothered her with, and he gave it a small pat as he placed it between his bruised back and the wooden headboard. Betty managed to raise herself up when she realized what he was doing, and he settled her thinner pillow against his stomach and helped her move between the vee of his legs. She was completely rolled up in the blanket, but she parted it from her upper half enough so that her cold body could touch against his warmer one. In the end, she turned sideways so that she could wrap her arms around his middle and her head rested on the pillow lying across his stomach. He moved his arms down around her and smoothed his hands around her shaking shoulder blades, and he tucked his feet under the blanket somewhere around her knees.

"A fantasy is something that comes from the imagination, and it can be either just something that a person thinks about or it can become reality," she whispered. All of the moving around seemed to wear her out, and he watched as her eyes fluttered closed.

The binding spell took too much of her energy. She's barely running on reserves right now, which is why her body temperature has dropped so low and she's clinging to him for a heat source. This is why binding spells are nearly impossible to complete. The spells are normally only cast by witches that are willing to die. Wasn't it enough to bring the dead hunter back to guard the Prophet? Why go through the trouble of risking her life, _risking his grace_, to bind the hunter and prophet together? None of it makes any sense to him, not his Father's orders or Betty's obedience. Why give his grace to His favorite assassin and then have her risk her life by doing something unnecessary?

"So, we gonna pass the day in complete silence?" Betty muffled out against the pillow. Perhaps, there's a way that his questions can be answered. She might not have all the answers or know the future, but she still knows more than she has a right to.

"You could answer some questions for me." She tilted her head to the side so that her mouth wasn't pressed against the pillow, and he felt her fingers flex on the small of his back on either side of his spine.

"Question for a question? We gotta keep things fair, Lu." The shakes have died down so that she's only slightly trembling against him, but she still feels so cold. In some ways, he misses the cold. He's always run cold, but the vessel that he's trapped in is always burning.

"Fair is fair," he agreed.

"Okay. You first." There were many questions that he wanted to ask, so where to start?

"I'm not the only one being tested, am I?" Betty's dark eyes disappeared from view as she snuggled into the pillow, but her head moved up enough that her nose brushed against the bottom of his chest.

"No, you're not. I can't tell for sure, but I think He's testing all of us. The hunters, the angels, the demons…everyone. The Apocalypse is one big test, and only one side gets the A-plus. The rest of us just fail." Her breath only held a little bit of muted heat, and he could feel it through the thin cotton of his shirt.

"Your question," he reminded her. He may manipulate, trick, and influence…but he doesn't lie.

"Can I put my hands under your shirt?" Her eyes opened enough for him to see a slit of brown, and he nodded his head. Cold hands smoothed up the bare skin of his back, and Betty hummed as warmth sunk into her fingers.

"Why do you follow His orders? What's in it for you?" Her fingers tapped against his spine before lacing together, and he waited for her answer.

"When I was a teenager, I was convinced that I was going to Hell. I'd killed innocents, with no remorse, so Heaven would never take me in. Josie told me that I was wrong. I was doing His work, what He wanted, so of course He would reward me. Heaven is my reward, my chance at peace, and I will do whatever it takes to get it." Betty Fay wants to rest, after a lifetime of death and destruction. She will kill and bind whoever she has to in order to reach the ending that she's earned. It's too bad he'll never let her have that perfect ending.

"You believe in Him that much?" he asked once his thoughts were in order.

"Ah, ah, ah…you had your question. It's my turn." He gave her a look that she couldn't see, but he thinks that she could feel it because she wiggled a little before taking her turn.

"Let's say you win. You pass all the tests, get your grace back, and decide to go nuclear. You have all the power. You can do whatever you want. What do you do?" It's a very big question, and a surprising one. Why does she care what he plans to do with the rest of the world? She should be worried about her own fate.

"I'll start with my brothers. Raphael and Gabriel will stand against me, and Michael will want to kill me. Now that I know there's a way to open my Cage, I'll send them there. Let them see the darkness that I was trapped in for a couple of millennia. I imagine there will be another civil war between the angels, but I will not fail this time."

"Yes, if you win. No one is standing in your way. All those that oppose you have been dealt with. Then what?" It's not a different question, only a clarification of the original question, so he'll let it slide.

"I will do what I've always wanted to do. I'll rid the earth of humans so that it can flourish as it was meant to. The Earth was perfect before humans were created. I breathed in the first scent of a blooming flower. I witnessed the first beast capture its prey. I felt the first sunrise encompass my grace and stood under the first stars. This world was perfect, until humans destroyed it. Tore down the very things that gave them life and killed in excess for sport. Humans are a plague upon Father's gift."

"You're…sad. You're angry because it makes you sad, what the world has been reduced to." Her brown eyes were wide as they stared up at him, and he slowly pulled back out of long ago memories.

"It's my turn to ask a question."

"That wasn't a question." He just continued to stare down at her, so she shrugged. "Alright, ask away, but I'm moving. I'm still too damn cold and you feel like a furnace."

"The spell you used to bind the container holding my grace to your soul, is there any way that it can be broken?"

He watched the way that Betty's brows drew together as she struggled to unwind herself from the blanket, and he reached up to help tug her free. Once the blanket was fanned out, Betty tossed the pillow to the side and moved up his body. She tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder, moved her hands up his sides so that her arms were braced against his ribcage, and pushed her legs under his. The blanket was pulled up to her shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around her back to hold her close. He could feel the chill of her body through the thin clothes they were wearing and felt every quiver.

"Trying to get rid of me?" It was whispered against the side of his neck, and he moved to lay his head on top of hers.

"Just curious."

"There's no counter spell or anything like that, so don't start thinking that getting your grace back is going to be that easy. If my soul were to change, however, I would have to remove the container. Not a small change though. Something big. Something that alters my very being. And before you ask, the physical binding only dissolves if you leave that psychical body or I die."

"So, we're stuck. Not a question," he added. Something that completely alters the soul…he'll have to think on that. There's no way he can leave this physical body without his grace; he doesn't have enough power to create a spell that would transfer him to another vessel, so he'll have to wait until he has his grace back for that. Or he can just kill Betty.

"My turn. Did you really think that you'd pass one of His tests by letting just any ol' human live for a few more years? That saving one person would have absolutely no impact?" Just thinking about it still makes his skin crawl, to know that he saved so many of the gutless swine that he's sworn to exterminate, but he has seen the error of his ways. He won't let something like that happen again.

"I was working on the principle that all humans are precious and deserve a chance to thrive. I believe it's my turn to ask a question now." She sighed out a breath and wiggled her toes against his leg, but she didn't argue or demand a better answer.

"Alright, Lu, do your worst. I'm ready for anything."

"Does the physical binding keep us close?" To emphasize his point, he moved his hands across her back and pulled her even closer. He can feel her every breath when her chest expands and when she exhales. The way she touches him is so natural and casual, as if they were meant to always reach for each other. He wishes he could say that it's just her, a human weakness for physical touch, but he reaches for her without even realizing it.

"I'm not sure. It could be because our physical bodies are bound to one another; the spell could urge us closer to satisfy itself. It might be your grace searching for you and since it's bound to my soul, I'm searching for you too. You're not meant to be separated from it; its natural state is for you to be together. For us to be together." Both explanations make sense, and he's not sure which one sickens him the most.

"Your question, Betty Fay. The last one." He's grown tired of this game, and he's learned what he wanted. For now, at least.

"Is having a heartbeat really so bad?" As she asked, a cold hand traced over his ribs and moved over his chest. Her palm pressed flat over his steady heartbeat, and he removed one hand from her back to rest over the hand under his shirt. Thin fabric was all that separated their skin, and he felt the way that her hand warmed as it was trapped between his body heat.

"This one defenseless organ is what keeps this body alive. If it's damaged in any way, internally or externally, this vessel dies. When it stops, I stop. Why would anyone want to have a heartbeat?" The true question is why anyone would want to be human. As an angel, all he had was grace. If it was damaged, it could be repaired. There was no direct spot that would take him out. Only someone truly stronger than him would be able to defeat him. Fully grown humans can be killed by a child standing behind a gun.

"Heartbeats keep us humble and remind us that any minute could be our last," she said quietly. A single finger tapped out his heart's rhythm, and he hated his fleshy prison even more. He traded one cage for another.

"That's not good enough." Betty hummed in the back of her throat and completely relaxed against him, and it was hard to find places where they weren't touching. Her body was starting to warm more, but she's still nowhere near as warm as she should be. All of the talking seems to have worn her out as well.

Lucifer dozed as he held Betty against him, and the psychic slept quietly against him. They both know that if he ever gets the chance, he'll kill her. Painfully. Slowly. Tortuously. None of that seems to matter right now. For the moment, Betty is weak and leaning against him for support. And he is allowing it. He knows now that he won't be able to twist her and manipulate her into getting what he wants; all he can do now is wait for a way to get under Betty's guard or somehow pass his Father's tests.

"You were wrong, you know," Betty huffed out against his ear several hours later. She still had both hands under his shirt, one behind his back and the other braced against his chest. She'd twisted in her sleep so that her legs were curled up under one of his thighs, and she was starting to feel a more normal temperature.

"About what?" He still feels groggy and tired, despite doing nothing. Maybe it's the heat from being cocooned under a thick blanket with another person.

"Neither one of us knows what love is," she mumbled. The hand on his back moved to his chest, over his shirt, and she slowly pushed herself up. A small throb of pain got his eyes to open fully, and Betty was so close that he could see the lighter colored flecks in her dark eyes.

"We don't?" He remembers this conversation; they had it when they were sitting on the front porch, in the swing.

"I claimed to love Josie, the woman who raised me, but I abandoned her family after she died. It was easier for me to stay away. I claimed to love Jo, but I just had her ripped out of Heaven and returned to this shit-filled world. You killed one of your brothers, someone that you claim that you love, and you were willing to kill your big brother. The first being that you ever loved." Her face is completely serious, and there's even a small flicker of emotion hiding in her eyes. Looks like something can make Betty Fay feel after all.

"Then what is love?"

"Love is sacrifice." It's not fear in her eyes…it's something else. Something wild and uncontrollable, because Betty is always in control of herself. What happened to her? It came to him like lightning; Betty had a vision. What did she see that would make her look at him like this?

"Sacrifice?" He raised a brow as he asked the question, and Betty licked her lips as her eyes flicked between each of his own. She's so close that he can see the freckles dotted across her nose and smell the light scent of her skin.

"Yeah, love is sacrifice. It has nothing to do with you, and it has everything to do with them. Huh."

The hand pressing against his bare skin is warm now, and he can feel the heat of her body mixing with his own. Ten little dull points of pain pricked against his chest as she leaned forward, and he held completely still as lips pressed against his forehead. She held herself still against him, as if soaking up the last of his warmth, before pulling completely back. The blanket was tossed aside as she moved to the edge of the bed, and her feet made quiet thumps against the hardwood floor as she stood up.

"Feeling better?" He can still feel the wet press of her lips against his skin; the spot feels cooler than the rest of him, even with her body heat missing.

"Much. Thanks for that. I think I'll take a shower, and you can maybe go round us up something to eat?" She's holding her hair in a ball on top of her head, and he can clearly see the marks against her skin now. Dark purple, like his chest.

"I think we still have some food left." He moved to the edge of the bed and stood up, and Betty moved over to her closet to start pulling clothes out.

"We'll have to go grocery shopping soon. Tomorrow, maybe. I need to figure things out." The last part was mumbled to herself, but still loud enough for him to hear. Before he could say anything, she disappeared into her bathroom with a bundle of clothes and shut the door. Because she gets to have doors. He paused at the top of the ladder and looked at the messy bed, and he felt his eyes narrow. Something just changed, but what?

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**Finis:** A little short on action, but it's still a very revealing chapter. Everything that I write is important and will more than likely show up again later on down the road.

Thank you to everyone reading!


	13. Only Human

**TIB:** Tiny bit of violence in this one but nothing too graphic.

**funkypanda:** Haha, Lu is going to go through a lot of strange emotions before this story is over. Thank you for the review!

**EmmaMarie: **Thank you for the review! I'm so glad you liked the update! Writing a shift like that is always a little nerve-wracking, but it's also so much fun. You're right about the vision, but there's a ton of hints in this chapter.

**Susana: **Thank you for the review! I am a hopeless romantic, but Betty and Lucifer are a special case. Mostly because of Lucifer. It'll definitely be an interesting ride though.

**Sabie0521: **Thank you for the review! I'm not really sure if there's ever going to be any smut, but they're dynamics are definitely changing. And it'll be explained throughout, up until Betty's vision happens in reality. So it's very important. There's some explanations in this chapter.

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**Chapter Thirteen  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 38]**_

**Only Human**

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**BETTY**

The hot water pounded against her and chased away the last of the chills still clinging to her spine, and her tongue dipped out to taste the droplets on her lips. Sweat and skin…hers or his? She shouldn't have done that, but she couldn't stop herself. When Lucifer asked why they touch so much, why they reach for each other, she told most of the truth. She didn't lie, she promised him that she wouldn't, but she didn't tell the whole truth. Yes, something outside of their control keeps them close together. The binding spell, his grace, or any other thing that she doesn't know about yet. The possibilities are endless. His touch also helps bring out the visions, and she needs to know what's going to happen. There are still endless futures stretched out before them, but she has a better idea of what's going to happen on her end now.

She's only seen a vision of her own death once, when she was six, but it's something that she's never forgotten. Probably because the vision was frustratingly vague. Everything had been in shades of gray and blurry. She'd seen a woman lying on the ground first, and her six year old self didn't know who she was. Once the eyes bled into a familiar brown color, it came to her. She was looking at an older version of herself, only now, that's the face she sees in the mirror. Eyes staring up at the sky, hair fanned around her head, gray fading into red around her head, and a smile on her face. She doesn't know who killed her, or how, or why. She doesn't know where she'll be or what she'll be wearing. All she knows is that she's going to die with a smile on her face.

Dying hasn't scared her since then, and it doesn't scare her now. What she saw earlier though…there's a part of her that feels settled at knowing what's to come, and there's another part of her that rages at her fate. _Love is sacrifice_. When she was seventeen, Josephine was taken by demons. Betty was able to track them down, and she made it just in the nick of time. Josie was beaten and bloody but still alive, and Betty managed to exorcise enough demons and do enough damage to their vessels to severely thin their numbers. It should have been enough, but it wasn't. Betty was so locked on Josie that she didn't see the demons coming up behind her, and they gave her a choice. They'd watched the two of them long enough to see their bond, to know how close the two female hunters were, and Betty was the one they asked to choose.

Demons used to be humans, so they still understand human emotions. They still understand love. The demons holding her expected her to break down, to beg for her adoptive mother's life, and then to listen to the other woman beg for Betty's life. It would have been a nice little game for them, and they would kill both Josie and Betty in the end. Only, Betty knew what choice to make. Betty Fay still had a job to do, and she knew this wasn't how she was going to die. She told the demons to go ahead and kill Josie. The look in Josie's eyes was clear; she knew that Betty would choose to live, and she didn't blame her for that. The answer stunned the demons, which was all Betty needed to break free and finish them off. Josie was dead before she could get to her.

_Love is sacrifice_.

Betty wasn't willing to sacrifice herself for Josie. If she'd died then without finishing her job, there was a chance she'd be sent to Hell. Betty wasn't willing to sacrifice herself for Charlie. _(Her name is Celeste Middleton.)_ The girl is going to be tested in ways that would break most people and will give up her life to remove only one of the threats against humanity, because Betty set her on that path. She didn't have to. She could have just as easily taken on the trials and damned herself straight to Hell, because that's what disobedience gets you. Betty wasn't willing to sacrifice herself for Jo. The young hunter may feel like she has unfinished business, but she did her job. She stood against evil, paid the price, and was rewarded. Betty ripped her away from eternal peace, when any other hunter could have done the job. He asked for Jo though, so Betty delivered her for Him. Betty has never been willing to sacrifice herself for anyone. She has killed men, women, and children in order to reach her end.

Now she knows that when the time comes, she'll disobey. She will be given an order, one loud enough to shake the ground under her feet, and she will disobey. For the first time in her life, she will make a decision that is completely hers. She knows the consequences; she's seen enough visions to know everything there is to know about Hell, but the sulfur coating her tongue won't change her mind. After everything, all the death and selfish decisions, she'll throw away her chance to rest. She's going to damn herself to Hell, and she's going to die with a smile on her face. Betty's going to make a sacrifice, and it's all going to have been for nothing.

**LUCIFER**

He moved up the ladder slowly, carefully, to keep the tray balanced. The only food he'd been able to find barely counted as food, but it was better than nothing. So there was a plate stacked with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and two big cups of tea on the tray, and he was careful not to let anything slip. Betty should think about having an actual staircase installed, instead of this laughable excuse of ladder steps. He looked away from the tray once he was standing in Betty's room, but the door to the bathroom was still closed and there's no Betty in sight. He carefully slid the tray onto the bedside table as he heard the bathroom door open, and he turned around to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"I hate you." Her voice was quiet and even, and his eyes slowly moved up from her bare feet to her face. She's wearing a small pair of purple shorts and a thin white shirt with very thin straps, and every inch of skin that he can see is still glistening from her shower. As if she got dressed in a hurry. Wet strands of hair are falling from the ball her hair is in to cling to the dark bruises on her throat.

"The feeling's mutual," he said with a small nod. Did she feel it too? The shift from earlier? She left wet footprints on the hardwood floor as she walked towards him, and warm hands lightly cupped his face. Her temperature is remaining steady. That's progress. She still looks too pale and weak; she'd be so easy to hold down right now. So easy to break. There's barely any strength in her to fight back with.

"You're going to be the death of me." Her nails are scratching lightly just behind his ears as she holds his face, and she smells like the field he stood in the last time he was on Earth. Like grass and sunlight.

"I am," he agreed. It's something that they both know; it's something that he's looking forward to. He can't read the look in her dark eyes, but he knows that he doesn't like it. Something about it unsettles him, makes his stomach clench and his chest burn. "What did you see, Betty Fay?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said with a small smile. Her fingers traced over his cheekbones as she pulled away, and he kept his eyes on her as her hands fell back to her sides. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment longer and then Betty turned to look at the tray. She tapped a finger against the edge of the tray and then glanced over at him.

"It's all we have left," he answered.

"Definitely going grocery shopping tomorrow then. Any food preferences?" She crawled past him on the bed and propped herself up against the headboard on the far side, and he moved to do the same thing on the side closest to the bedside table. Once they were both settled, he grabbed the tray and settled it over his lap.

"I don't know. Angels don't have to eat." He only eats now because his vessel leaves him no choice; without food, this weak prison will fall apart around him and bury him in the wreckage.

"Doesn't seem to stop them," Betty said before taking a large bite out of a sandwich.

"Meaning?" he asked before following her lead. She had to drink some tea before she could talk again, but Lucifer isn't in a hurry. Not right now, at least.

"Well, Gabriel is obviously a special case. Gabriel loves food, all food. Castiel has a thing for red meat, and even Michael can't resist chocolate," Betty listed off. It still surprises him just how far his brothers have fallen, especially Michael. Gabriel ran and became a pagan, and Castiel defied Heaven for one human. He can see how they have fallen, but Michael? Michael may have promised to protect the humans, but he never truly loved them. Why else would he be willing to kill so many of them? He doesn't need to think about them right now. He'll ponder the downfall of his brothers later, after his grace is returned.

''You need to call Mimi.'' He doesn't like the way that the peanut butter sticks to the roof of his mouth; why do humans enjoy this? It's just another example of their inferiority and stupidity.

''It's just peanut butter. We like it because it's simple and easy to put on bread,'' Betty said with a small shrug. The move caused her bare arm to slide along his; have they been sitting this close the whole time? ''And I already texted Mimi to let her know that I was okay, but thanks for actually telling me.''

''Don't mention it.''

"Your secrets are safe with me, Lu," she drawled. The next few minutes were spent in silence as they ate, and the sandwiches on the plate slowly disappeared until there was nothing left but crumbs. Betty quietly thanked him when he stood up with the tray, but he didn't reply. He just carefully made his way down the poor excuse of stairs and moved into the kitchen.

This is even worse than having to smile for humans past their expiration date at the flower shop. At least there, Betty is on her feet and watching him with dark distrusting eyes. Right now, she's too weak for him to even insult. He could do anything he wanted with a minimal amount of fight. She's weak enough that he could torture her easily, even in this weakened vessel, and make her give his grace up. Then again, physical strength has nothing to do with mental strength. He's already held her life in his hands, watched her stop breathing, and she feared nothing. Not him. Not death.

When he made it back upstairs, Betty had slumped down so that she was laying down instead of resting against the headboard. Her skin has lost its healthy golden color, and her eyes look too big and dark in her face. Sweat is popping out against her skin, making it look like she's fresh from the shower when it's been a half hour. All she did was sit up to eat a sandwich, and that has her worn out to the point of exhaustion. This woman is all that stands between him and his grace, and it sickens him. Makes the food in his stomach settle like rocks and leaves a lingering taste of bile in his throat.

"Was it worth it?" It looks like she tried to cover herself with the blanket, but she was only able to pull it up to her knees.

"Was what worth it?" He doesn't like the way her eyes are burning up at him. It makes his skin itch.

"Binding the hunter and the Prophet. Was it worth being so weak?" He's standing next to the bed now, and he can see the veins of her eyelids. She looks completely washed out, a pale imitation of what she used to be. Of what she should be.

"You think I'm weak?" She's not even bothering to try and look into his mind like she usually does. He watched the way that his fingers sunk against the mattress as he leaned towards her, and Betty slowly moved her head so that she could look into his eyes.

"I know you are," was his whispered answer.

Her eyes closed as she took in a slow breath, and the room spun around him a moment before the breath was pushed from his lungs. The floor was hard against his already bruised back, and he instantly reached up to grab his attacker. Warm flesh molded around his hands and he could feel the curve of bones under his fingers. A ribcage. Her shirt must have slipped up. When he could breathe again, he slowly opened his eyes. One of her hands was pressing down against his windpipe and keeping him against the floor, and her other hand was wound through his hair. Her knees were on either side of his ribs so that she was sitting on his stomach, and he could feel every exhale against his chin. The hand in his hair tightened and pulled, so that his head was raised off the floor and even closer to her own. He can see her freckles again.

"Still think I'm weak?" Her skin is fevered now, a sharp contrast from the chill this morning, and he pushed himself even closer to her. His vessel can stand to lose a few strands of hair.

"You're only human." Brown eyes narrowed and her thighs clamped tight around his ribcage. He was already fighting to breathe from the hand on his throat, and the new restriction only made it that much harder. Her fingers lightly caressed his skin as her palm pushed down harder on his windpipe, and he could feel the veins under his eyes pulsing as his airway was completely blocked off.

"So are you." The back of his head hit the floor with a quiet _thump_, and Betty sat up on his stomach. Her hands were pressed against his chest now, but he could breathe again. Having her sit on him didn't help much, but the hand on his throat was gone and his ribcage wasn't being compressed.

"This vessel means nothing. I will never be human." He slowly sat up, and Betty slid down his torso to sit in his lap. She's still straddling him with her hands resting flat on his chest, and he hasn't let go of her sides since she first attacked him.

"I didn't know angels bruise so easily," she said and pressed her thumbs against his sternum. The growing bruises there flared with pain, but the feeling was nothing compared to his back or the fire in his throat. He reached up to grab her wrists in his hands, and he felt the way her thin skin shifted over the bones.

"Would you still fight me if I had my grace? Would you still try?" Her hands have taken so many lives, but they feel so fragile in his grasp. How can something so weak cause so much death?

"You don't scare me, Lucifer. Not in this vessel and not with your grace." She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, and her bottom lip brushed over his chin as she spoke again. "I will never be afraid of you."

"Have you seen it, Betty Fay? Seen our end?" Their time together will end, eventually. After he gets his grace, he'll draw it out until he's finally satisfied. Her death will be an example for anyone who thinks they can dare to steal an angel's grace, for anyone who thinks they can bind _him_.

"I've seen enough. Carry me to bed? Tackling you has made me sleepy."

Her hands slipped through his so she could wind her arms around his neck, and he raised a brow in question. She slowly shook her head, so she's not going to tell him what she saw. Not now. He'll get answers out of her later. His hands traced over her thighs and he curled his fingers around the backs of her knees. Holding her to him while standing was easy, despite the dull ache in his body, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Instead of just tossing her off, like he was tempted to do, he laid down on the closest side of the bed. Betty removed her legs and arms, but she kept her face pressed against the curve of his shoulder. Her body is still feverish and throwing off heat, so he left the blanket where it was and closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, he'll get the answers that he wants out of her.

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**Finis:** Another chapter down! It looks like things are heating up between Betty and Lucifer, hmm? Betty's POV gives out a lot of hints for what she saw, and the vision will become reality several chapters down the road. I'd love to know people's thoughts on what they think is going to happen! Or if you like the way that things are progressing between our favorite psychic and devil.

Thank you to everyone reading!


	14. My Guardian Angel

**TIB:** I am so sorry about the wait for an update. I know it's been too long, so this chapter is dedicated to everyone who is still reading and who has stuck with me. Thank you!

**EmmaMarie:** Haha, you're not a depraved individual. I might be for writing this story, but I think you're okay. I really love writing for these two because there's subtext to everything, and it's just fun. And I'm sorry for always writing about food. I just can't help myself! Thank you for reviewing!

**Sabie0521:** Thank you for the review! To be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure what Lucifer and Betty will be in the end. I don't think they'll ever really be friends, but they definitely have some kind of relationship that's only going to get stronger as the story continues.

**Susana:** Guessing is good! I can tell you that the sacrifice will be completely unexpected, and who said there's only going to be one sacrifice? Haha, I'm glad you like Lucifer's way of thinking. I just picture him as this insanely angry guy trapped in a nice guy's body, and he's just in a constant state of confusion and frustration. OMG, I'll have to get Betty to call him Annie at some point now. Thank you for the review!

**Grizzlybearsandteacups:** Thank you for the review! I'm glad you like Betty and Lucifer, and I hope you like the update!

**Guest:** I'm glad you like Lucifer; writing for him was terrifying at first, but I think I've got into a good writing groove when it comes to him. I have a horrible updating schedule, as you can probably tell. Sometimes I'll post a chapter a week and then disappear for months. This story will be completed though, it just might take a while. Thank you for the review!

**ScarySophie:** Thank you for the review! And I'm sorry that I just left you hanging like that. This story goes along with _A Spoonful Of Grace_, so I had to update it first and that took longer than I expected. I hope you enjoy the review!

**Bytexme:** Sorry for the extremely long wait, but I've finally updated! Haha, sometimes I wish I had less of a life so that I could spend all my time writing, but it just never seems to work out that way. Thank you for the review!

**Guest:** Thank you for the review!

**Guest:** Are you the same guest as before? If so, thanks again for reviewing! Things in real life are okay, I have my moments like everyone else, so thanks for asking! I hope you enjoy the update!

**Lemontea-addict:** This story and the main one are all about free will, but I can't say if you're right or not. That would take the fun out of it, right? Believe me, I will never lose interest in my stories. They'll be completed, one day. Thank you for the review!

**Lisa:** Thanks for the compliment! Normally I'm the exact opposite of well put together. And I'm glad you like Betty. She's a fun OC to write for, and her interactions with Lucifer are always fun to write. My muse for this story is always vocal; it's the main story that I have muse problems with sometimes. Thanks for the review!

**Sad rad fish:** Thank you for the review! Thank you for all the reviews! I'm really glad that you like my stories.

**Queen Martha Pond:** Betty is definitely a gray character, which makes her fun to write. Emma is fully good, she's all about the saving, so it's nice to switch it up and write from a much different perspective. And I'm glad you like my portrayal of Lucifer! There's no way he'd immediately start loving humans; I don't he'll ever love humans, or even like them. As a whole, that is. Thank you for the review!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen  
**_**[ASOG: Chapter 39]**_

**My Guardian Angel**

* * *

**BETTY**

"_Good night, sleep tight. The day is done, now time for sleep, my little one." The woman's voice was quiet and soft as she sang, and her socked feet didn't make any sound as she moved around the room. _

"_Never fear, I am here, rest your head. Angels bright, guard the night, over your bed." Black hair fell down the woman's back in waves, except for one lock that was clutched in a tiny fist. Dark blue eyes were blind to everything except for the baby in her arms. _

"_Good night, sleep tight, my love is near. And when you wake, I'll still be here, holding you. Loving you every day." Tears were gathered in the corner of the woman's eyes. Being a single mother isn't easy, but there is nothing that she wouldn't do for her little girl. The small sleeping bundle in her arms is her whole world. _

"_Close your eyes, listen now, as I pray." When she found out she was pregnant, she yelled at God and hated the thing inside her. She never wanted children. Had been on the pill since before she started having sex. Then, as the baby grew, her walls crumbled. This child was all hers, depended on her. Looked up at her with innocent eyes and loved her. _

"_Watch over this little one, watch over 'til we see the sun. Watch over, watch over." She went through her pregnancy alone. She held her own hair when morning sickness hit in the middle of the night and went out to get her own cravings. She gave birth alone, with no one in the waiting room to greet her and her little girl. She's taking care of her daughter alone, because they're all each other has in this world. _

"_Good night, sleep tight, you're in His care. And as you dream, I'll meet you there." The baby didn't stir as she was gently set down in her crib, and the woman spent the next few moments just watching the little girl sleep. Her back ached as she stood up, but it's an ache she's become accustomed to. Her eyes fell on the picture sitting on the table next to the crib, and she kept one hand on the crib as her fingers ran along the edges. She drew the picture using only a hazy memory, so that her little girl would know her father's face. _

"Shh, little Frankie, it's okay," Betty mumbled and curled her legs up. She's laying on her side with the devil pressed up against her back; there's an arm around her waist and a thigh between hers. It's the best sleep she's had in months…until now.

_Dark blue eyes are looking heavenward, but there's no light in them now. She's dead, dead, dead. She can't hear her little girl's screams, crying out for her mama. There's a picture under a demon's boot, and he has the little girl's green eyes. She's dead, dead, dead. Hell is no place for the innocent. No place for little girls with green eyes. She's stretched thin and dead inside. Nothing left. She's dead, dead, dead. He'll stand in her stretched skin and turn dead eyes on his brothers. The vessel is his. No more hiding behind a tainted lineage. It's all his. He's going to win. She's dead, dead, dead. _

Betty woke up with a scream, and arms locked around her to keep her from getting away. She bucked against the body behind her and clawed at the arms around her middle, but she couldn't get free. She's got to warn them, needs to tell them…they need to know! Hands roughly gripped her shoulders and forced her back against the mattress, and she could feel knees digging against the sides of her hips. Blue swam in front of her and made her try to force herself up, but the hands kept her down. She's not looking up into dark blue eyes; lighter blue, like a midday sky. Lucifer.

"What are you—What—Lucifer?" The hands left her shoulders to smooth the hair away from her face, and she reached up to touch against his warm skin. Warm. Alive. She's okay. He's okay. No one here is dead.

"Vision?" It sounds like a question, but he already knows the answer. Betty sucked in a deep breath and kept holding onto his hands, because she needs something to ground herself.

"Raphael has really lost it," she finally got out. She's seen horrible things, she's even done her fair share of horrible things, but what she just saw takes the cake. Or should that be takes the pie?

"What's he done now?" Betty easily slid out from under Lucifer's body and up onto her knees, so now they're both kneeling on the bed with their knees pressed together. She's still holding his hands.

"He's going to take a true vessel." She lowered their hands and moved his to press his palms against her hips; his fingers curled around and spread against the edges of her back. Her own hands moved up his arms until she could feel the strong pulse in his neck and her fingers brushed against his hair.

"He's creating a new line?" Hair tickled her cheeks as she slowly shook her head, and Lucifer raised a brow. "His vessel lineage died out centuries ago."

"He's going to take a true vessel," she repeated. He must have been able to read between the lines this time, because those blue eyes of his narrowed and his hands tightened.

"The Winchesters. Neither of them would ever say yes." Both of them have said yes, for different reasons, but Lucifer has a point. Sam and Dean Winchester are both stubborn, both willing to fight until the end.

"She's only two years old." Betty's voice was a whisper.

"He wouldn't." Lucifer's voice was a growl.

"He can, and he will. Unless I pass the message along." She bit the words out slowly, like they were stuck in her throat, and he flexed his fingers against her skin.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"The decision is yours." One day, she'll get to make the decision. The day will come where she can disobey, but that day isn't today.

"Tell me all of it this time, Betty Fay." She _hates_ that name, and she knows that he knows just how much she hates it. Her fingers idly combed through his hair as she gathered her thoughts, and he waited quietly.

"If Raphael inhabits a true vessel, he will defeat Michael and Gabriel. He will return your grace; he'll rip it right from my soul. No more tests. No more fighting. You'll be welcomed back with open arms. Your enemies defeated. Will you choose to let Raphael free you?"

"No." The answer was immediate, and Betty blinked in surprise. She wasn't expecting that at all.

"In a true vessel, he'll have the power to rip up my soul and free your grace. You'll be an angel again, without having to pass any more of your Father's tests. It won't kill me, so I'll be yours to torture. To punish. Michael and Gabriel will be gone; they won't be a threat to you."

"I will get my grace back without any help from the brother who abandoned us all. I will deal with Michael and Gabriel. I…"

"Come on, Lu, don't leave me hanging." Of course the devil has too much pride to accept help from anyone, even his own brother.

"I do not want help from someone who has to resort to stealing a human child. It's cowardly." His lip curled on the last word, and Betty slowly nodded her head. Yes, Raphael is definitely taking the easy way out. It's a smarter and quicker plan than trying to get his hands on one of the fully grown Winchesters, but it's also… pathetic.

"So you want me to pray to Gabriel and tell him Raphael's plan? If I do, she'll be saved. Raphael won't get a true vessel. You'll be stuck with me." She wants to be very clear about this; he has to know what he's agreeing to.

"There are worse fates than being stuck in your presence."

"Such a sweet talker." She lightly scratched against his scalp and watched the way that his eyes closed against the sensation.

"Why Gabriel?" His eyes are still closed, and he's tilting his head so that she'll hit all the right spots.

"He's nicer than Michael. Little Gracie might have taught the big bad archangel some new tricks, but he still bites. Will you help me?" His eyes opened lazily and slowly focused on her, and she felt her lips trying to twitch into a smile. Only the devil can push her to murder and make her smile all within twenty-four hours.

"What do you need?" He really has made his decision. No hesitation.

"Just you." She pulled him down until their foreheads were pressed together, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their torsos were flush and she could feel his every movement, but it'll help her focus. The first four angels are special, touching one archangel will help her contact another one.

She pictured Gabriel's current vessel as she matched her breathing with Lucifer's, and then she went further. Saw the golden light that made up the youngest archangel, the way it lit up the air around him. Felt the warmth of his grace as it wrapped around his vessel. Gabriel…Gabriel…Ga—

"_-briel. Gabriel, can you hear me?"_

"_Well, well, well, is that little Betty Fay? Did you like your present?"_ Laughing. Always laughing. Lucifer twitched against her, dug his fingers into her back as he pulled her closer, because he can hear Gabriel too.

"_Yes, I love having random hunters on the run living in my backyard. I have a message for you, Gabriel."_

"_Ooh, for little ol' me? And here I thought Daddy stopped caring." _Lucifer's chest rumbled against hers, but no words came out.

"_Freedom, Oklahoma is about to be under attack. You need to get there, all of you, and you have to save her. Frankie. She lives at sixteen-thirty rosemary drive. Save her, Gabriel, or it's all over."_

"_That's frustratingly vague. Got anything else for me, sweet cheeks?" _

"_Yeah. Tell Dean it's not his fault."_

Betty pulled out of the connection with a full body shudder, because being inside of an angel's head is never fun. Not even Gabriel's. She's still holding onto Lucifer like he's the only thing holding her together, and his breathing is uneven. Looks like it wasn't easy for him to hear his brother's voice. She kept her arms hooked over his shoulders, but she raised her hands to run them through his hair. It seemed to calm him, somewhat, and she doesn't have the energy to fight with him right now. Just that little bit was enough to drain her.

"He sounds so…"

"Jovial?" When she opened her eyes, all she could see was blue.

"Carefree," he corrected. Betty pulled away from him, because there's nothing fun about a sweaty forehead, but she didn't go far.

"That's Gabriel's specialty. Laughing in the face of danger and overwhelming odds. You could really learn some stuff from him," she said as she massaged her short nails against his scalp.

"Like what?" It sounds like he's trying to be gruff, but the scalp massage has managed to mellow him out some. That's good for her. She needs him to work with her today; they can go back to wanting to kill each other tomorrow.

"How to relax and enjoy life." He made a quiet humming noise in the back of his throat, something he must have picked up from being around her so much, and opened his eyes again.

"I'll relax once the Earth is free of humans." It was said with a slow smile that promised total destruction, but only on his own terms.

"You'll keep me around though, right? Or am I getting a quick death after all?" His hands are warm on the bare skin of her back and his hair is so soft as it runs through her fingers; _this_ should scare the ever livin' shit out of her. No one should be this close to the devil. You can't get this close without being burned.

"Maybe I should make you spend an eternity chained to my side. You can watch me wipe your species off the map." His smile is looser now; he's smiling for the pleasure of it and not just to taunt her.

"I knew you were warming up to me," she murmured. Her head easily fit into the space above his shoulder and against his neck, and he was so warm against her. Her body is still weak, completely wrung out, and she could fall asleep like this. On her knees and propped up against Satan.

"You'll be the last human standing. The only one to witness how truly beautiful this planet can be." Betty held onto him as he wrapped his arms completely around her and lowered them down, so that they were lying on the bed again instead of kneeling on it. They were on their sides, facing each other, still holding onto each other.

"That sounds lonely." To be the only human left…it's a strange concept, one that she can't really imagine. Lucifer can though. He saw the Earth before humans, so he can see it after them too.

"You'll have me." One hand is lightly cupping her shoulder blade; she can feel the press of fingers along the edges of the bone. Warm. Little rough. The other is on the side of her neck, trapped between her skin and the pillow.

"I'm such a lucky girl." She dipped her nose towards his collarbone and breathed in the fresh scent of her washing detergent, because she washed all of his clothes after she bought them.

"I'll bleed you out across the Sahara. Watch you drown in all seven seas. Listen to your screams echo throughout the Grand Canyon." He sounds so happy just at the idea of her future torture, and that shouldn't make her smile. She should rage at him, maybe show him that she won't go down so easily, but she just doesn't have the energy.

"I've always wanted to travel," she sleepily answered. The sun is starting to come through the windows now; the day is starting, but she needs a little more sleep.

"I'll show you everything." Yes, he'll show her everything and the entire planet will have tasted her blood when it's over.

"Can't wait."

**LUCIFER**

"Wake up, Luci. Come on. Wake up! Who knew the devil was such a heavy sleeper? Wake up!" Betty was leaning over him with sweat already beading on her forehead and streaking down her cheeks; she still hasn't recovered from the binding spell.

"What do you want?" He was resting, quite peacefully, until she started shaking him. Even now all he wants to do is sleep and rest his body a little more. Why is his weak meat suit even more useless than usual?

"I used some of your energy during the spell, remember? Human or not, you've got still got more mojo than an ex-angel and a hunter, even if he is Nuriel's vessel," Betty shrugged. She took more from Lucifer than the other two, because he's still stronger. Even in this ineffective form.

"Mojo?" He's raised up onto his elbows now, and Betty is still kneeling at his side. Her legs are pressed against his ribcage.

"I should probably stay out of Gabriel's head from now on. Come on, get up. We don't have time to lay around," she said and pushed on his shoulder. His body barely rocked with the movement, so he just raised a brow at the psychic and stayed right where he was.

"Grocery shopping?" He remembers them talking about it, before they fell asleep. He will not eat another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. His vessel can just expire before he lowers himself to that again.

"Too late for that, for us anyway. Sun's going down. See?" She raised her chin and pointed it past him, and he turned his head to look out at the rest of the room. The sunlight was slowly moving out of the house, leaving parts of it in shadows, so they both literally slept the day away.

"Then what are we in a hurry for?" Betty looks as if she could fall over at any moment, so what do they have to do now?

"It's time to pay my end. I'll text Mimi and ask her to get us some groceries. She can use the emergency credit card at the shop." As she spoke, the psychic leaned over him to reach the phone on the bedside table. He kept himself propped up with one elbow and moved the other one to her back as she sat up, to keep her balanced.

"What's your payment?" His hand stayed on her lower back, fingers spread against her overheated skin, as she quickly typed out her message.

"Gotta make a delivery, but we need to leave soon if we want to catch him in time. You should go get dressed," Betty said and gave his body a slow look. He could feel her eyes moving from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, and the look burned more than her skin.

"So should you," he shot back. The thin material covering her body barely counts as clothes, but she's still burning up. Sweat is streaking down her chest and arms now.

"I can take care of myself. Go. Now," she said and pushed his shoulder a little harder this time. He grunted a little as the sore muscles in his chest and back pulled, and Betty was still kneeling on the bed when he started down the stairs. Lazarus ran to greet him as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he absently reached down to touch against the top of the beast's head as he moved past.

He stood in the doorway of the bedroom that was his, for the time being. Did it look like this before he came here? Did Betty even have a bed in here before she knew that he was coming, or did she use this room for something else? The clothes had to be new, because she had no reason to have men's clothing in his vessel's exact size. The psychic went into a store and bought clothes for him, a necessity that he would need. A variety of shirts and jeans, socks and underwear, different pairs of shoes. Clothes for sleeping and clothes for going out. He's even found shorts specifically for swimming in the small dresser that he didn't even notice for the first two days. Why? Why? Why?

Today is his eighth day on Earth. Eight Days. It's only been eight days since he was torn out of the cage and had his wings burned off; eight days of being bound to Betty Fay and in a human vessel. A week and a day, to go by the human passage of time. In eight days, he has resigned himself to waiting for the perfect moment to get his grace back. He had a chance, and he let it slip by. Why should he care if Raphael tortures a little girl? He knows that Lilith preferred possessing small children and loved the taste of a newborn's flesh. Raphael could have had the chance to free him; he would have been able to decide for himself there on out. No one would ever control him again. Why should he care if his younger brother has turned into a coward? He had a chance to be free and to have Betty Fay at his mercy. Yet…_**he**_ wants to be the one to set himself free and bring her to her knees.

The jeans and tee shirt fit him perfectly, and he pulled a jacket off the hanger to pull on before they left. He dropped the jacket on the back of a couch to pick up on his way out and continued on. His boots felt heavy on his feet as he walked through the house, and the dog was nowhere in sight. Neither was Betty once he made it up the ladder. The bed had been made, somewhat, and Betty's closet door was open. The bathroom door was cracked and light was coming through, so he walked over to the open doorway. He could hear Betty breathing, as if moving from her bed to the bathroom was extremely strenuous, and he propped his back against the wall next to where the crack was.

"Need a hand?" he drawled. There was a clinking sound, metal on tile, and a quiet groan.

"You know, I think I could use an extra hand. You've got nimble fingers, right?" He used the toe of his boot to push the door open, and the hinges didn't make a sound as the door slowly swung inwards. Betty was standing in front of the sink, bloody hands pressed against the white porcelain, and there was a needle lying on the counter. His hand locked around her bicep as he pulled her around to face him, and the front of her shirt was streaked with blood. The wound itself was placed over her heart.

"What did you do?" His voice was a hiss as he brought his other hand up and pressed the tip of his index finger to a line cut down the top of her chest.

"I need a little extra juice." His finger slipped in the still dripping wound as she shrugged, and her brown eyes look the same as always. There's no pain in her eyes from cutting into her own chest; there's no fear of bleeding out on the bathroom floor. There's nothing.

"You're still bleeding," he pointed out. Her skin is still too warm to the touch.

"You'd better stitch me up then, huh?" She raised a brow as she finished the question, and her eyes flicked down towards the dropped needle.

"Nick didn't know how to stitch." There's blurry memories of horrible television shows, but there are no real memories. Nick never saw violence up close until his family was killed.

"I'll teach you. Lesson one, sterilizing the needle."

His hands moved to Betty's words, and the task was relatively simple. A single repetitive motion to pull the flaps of skin back together and listening to Betty's quiet grunts of pain every time the needle slipped. Simple enough. The deep cut resembled an _**F**_, but the two parallel lines branching off were turned at a downward angle. An Ansuz rune. The rune is normally carved into candles, or a stick, to help a psychic increase their inner power. By carving it directly into her skin, Betty's paid for a little extra with her own blood and suffering. The deeper the cut, the more power. What is Betty Fay up to now?

"All done," he sang as he tied off the last thread. Her skin looks pale and waxy, but she's still standing.

"Good, because we're running behind schedule." She turned away from him to reach into an open cabinet, and she dropped a small container of wipes onto the bloody sink counter. The bathroom will never be free of those bloodstains. "Don't be so sure. With the right cleaning products and spell, anything can become clean. Now close your eyes."

"Feeling modest?" His eyes were already closed, and Betty's answer was muffled by her shirt.

"Never." He could hear her moving around, cleaning herself up with the wet wipes and pulling on new clothes, but he kept his eyes closed. He doesn't feel like hearing a lecture on how to behave, and there's a good chance that she might pass out if she talks at him for too long. "Okay. Open your eyes and tell me that I look pretty."

The jeans clinging to her legs are dark and have clearly been worn on several hunts, going by the tears and rips. The plaid shirt is a mixture of dark blue and what should probably be white, but it looks closer to a dull yellow color now. She's left it unbuttoned, so he can see the dark red color of her fresh wound and the stark black lines of the stitches against her bleached skin. If she keeps going at this pace, her body will give up. The only places of color come from the blood pooling in her cheeks and lips; signs of her fever and of her body fighting to stay upright. Does his Father even realize that He's pushing the psychic beyond her mortal limits? Her dark hair is pulled behind her in a ponytail, but it looks dull in the harsh light. Her eyes look too big and dark in her face, and the bruises ringed around her throat look darker even though they should start fading soon. She looks worse than some corpses he's seen.

"You look very pretty, Betty Fay." It was said with a slow smile, and Betty's big dark eyes rolled in a complete circle.

"Quit flattering me and patch me up. Gauze and tape is under the sink." He pulled out the good-sized first aid kit and grabbed what he would need. Betty held the tape as he pressed the little gauze squares against her skin, and she used her teeth to rip him off a strip of tape to hold it in place.

"Your body was perfect." One long line across the top.

"It still is." A line down the right side.

"All of the scars were wiped away." A line down the left side.

"I'll have more before this Apocalypse is over. Someone like me shouldn't look so clean anyway." The last line went across the bottom, a little under the black bra she's wearing. The darker clothes suit her so much better, but he's starting to prefer the lighter colors.

"I'll make you clean again after I get my grace." He settled his hand over the gauze, because the wound is about the size of his palm.

"Will I stay clean?" He can feel the heat that her body is generating, and he reached down to hold the bottom of her shirt together. The bottom button easily slipped through the hole, and he moved up to the next one.

"That would take all the fun out of it." He left the first few top buttons undone, just enough so that he could see the top corner of her bandage. Her hands slid over his and held them against her collarbones, and he still can't read the look in her eyes.

"At the end, when you're done with me, will I be clean?" There's no urgency in the question, just a quiet kind of curiosity. He can see her now, skin flayed to show what's hidden inside, but he wants her alive for that. Alive and screaming for his ears only. The morning she came back from Heaven, her skin nearly glowed in the sunlight streaming through the windows. So much warm soft skin stretched over muscle and bone.

"You won't have a single mark." Her smile was slow and dimpled her cheeks, and she was still smiling when she moved around him and out of the bathroom. She was standing in front of her open closet when he stepped out of the bathroom, after using some of the wet wipes to clean away most of the blood, and staring down at the floor.

"Boots are hunter attire, but I don't think I'd be able to pick my feet up. How pathetic is that?" Her voice is rough, as if she's disgusted with herself, and he moved to stand behind her. He can see the line of shoes, open things that would barely cover her skin at all, and her clunky steel-toed boots kicked off into a corner.

"Maybe you should wear the flipflops," he suggested. That caused the psychic to laugh a little and lean back against him, and he felt the sharp press of her shoulder blades against the bruises on his chest.

"I'm afraid another hunter already has that look, and I hate being a copycat. Maybe the sandals." She used her toes to pull the shoes out of the closet, and she carefully eased one foot inside. There was a strap that needed to go over the swell of her heel, and her knuckles popped against her thin skin as she held onto the closet doorway to bend over and move the strap into place. She straightened up to start the process over, and Lucifer forced himself not to roll his eyes.

"After this, you are resting until your strength returns." He used one hand to grip the muscle of her calf, just under her knee, and lifted her leg so that he could slide the sandal on. He felt her fingers running through his hair, slowly pushing the strands back and then twining them around, as he set her foot back down. He looked up at her with his hand locked around her ankle, and her fingers moved down to brush against his cheeks.

"Don't worry, Lu, I'll be back to fighting form soon. Then we can play some more." Her lips twitched into a smile as he rose to his feet, and she tipped her head back so that she could keep looking at him. Her hands are braced against his shoulders now, fingers curling into the fabric.

"Can you walk down the stairs?"

"Can I hold onto you?" He dipped his chin to nod his answer, and her fingers tightened and pulled the fabric taunt before suddenly letting go. She moved over to her bedside table and opened the drawer, and he watched as she slipped a bottle into her pocket. It looked like the same bottle that she put the stasis liquid in, but he knows that it's empty now. At least, it should be. She left her phone on top of the table but grabbed the keys to the Jeep, which she passed to him.

"Where are we going?" He slipped the key ring onto a finger as he walked over to the ladder, and he stopped on the second step. He felt her heat a moment before her hands came down on his shoulders, and she held on as they walked down the ladder steps. Once they were back on the ground floor, Betty reached for him. He felt her fingers brushing against his, almost as if asking for permission, and he turned his hand just enough to get their fingers to slot together. She seemed to take that as a sign and moved over closer to rest her head against his shoulder.

"A little side road off of I-90, right before the state line into South Dakota. They stay away from the interstate, because he's paranoid and doesn't want to be seen. Doesn't want them to be found." Her voice was a whisper as she rested against him, and he kept his pace slow as he walked towards the living room. He grabbed his jacket from the couch and moved to the front door, and Betty stayed quiet.

"What do you have to deliver?" The door is closed behind them, unlocked, because who would break into Betty Fay's house?

"I'm not really sure. I've only seen bits and pieces. I won't know the whole thing until it's time." He walked her over to the passenger side of her Jeep, and his eyes moved from the ground to the passenger seat. It's not a big step, but the Jeep is up higher than most vehicles. With a sigh, he bent down and placed an arm behind her knees. Betty held onto him a little tighter as he lifted her up, and he felt her lightly pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck.

"They treat you like a dog and only feed you scraps." His eyes moved over the bandage, to make sure she wasn't bleeding through, and she smiled at him. A small smile that barely moved her lips, but a smile just the same.

"For someone who's regarded as the Father Of All Evil, you're kinda sweet." Her hand smoothed down the back of his neck and across his shoulder before falling into her lap, and she hummed a little as he carefully buckled her in. Betty Fay is the key to his salvation, and she belongs to him. He doesn't care if his Father claims to own her or if Death has left his mark on her, she's his.

"I still want you to suffer," he said before closing the door.

"I know!" she called back. He slid into the driver's seat and placed the key into the ignition, and he looked over at Betty as he locked in his own seatbelt.

"Just not until I say so." His left hand gripped the wheel as he started backing up to turn around, because Betty is already holding onto his right hand. Her fingers slotted through his, like she was always meant to be holding onto him.

"Looking forward to it, Lu."

"Really?" What kind of person looks forward to never ending torture? Because he'll keep her with him for centuries. He'll let her watch as this planet is cleansed of humanity; they'll watch a thousand sunsets and she'll die a thousand deaths.

"It'll be a simpler life." He looked over just in time to see her eyes close and her body relax against the seat, but the hold on his hand is strong.

"I suppose it will be."

**BETTY**

"Pull over here. Yeah, go down the dirt road a little." The Jeep bounced its way down the small dirt road, and Betty did her best to hold herself still. The fever is making her body ache, and the Ansuz rune is throbbing something awful. It'll give her the strength she needs though, and that's all that matters.

"Do I need to come with you?" It was so quiet with the Jeep turned off, and she took a moment to just look up at the dark sky. It's nice out here.

"No, you need to stay here. Don't let them see you. Promise me you'll stay here." His eyes are an amazing shade of blue; are those Nick's eyes or Lucifer's? She knows that Michael keeps his vessel's eyes, but Gabriel lets his grace color his. So, Nick or Lucifer?

"I'll stay here until you come back." She's still holding his hand, because he keeps her grounded. She knows that when this is all over, he'll torture her. He'll go at her until she finally breaks, and she's okay with it. How many has she tortured after receiving a heavenly order? How many lives has she torn apart with her own hands? Strangely enough, she trusts the devil. There are no secrets or half-truths. He's honest with her. She knows all of his plans and the way his mind works; she'll always know where she stands with him. It's comforting, somehow.

"I won't be gone long." Her fingers tapped against his knuckles before completely pulling away, and she eased herself out of the seat and onto the ground. It took her a moment to steady herself, and she used the door to push herself forwards a little.

Her sandals left small trails in the dirt as she walked, and her breathing was a little labored as the dirt gave way to asphalt. She stopped in the middle of the road, planted her feet on either side of the yellow line, and closed her eyes. Sweat is dripping from every pore and her temples feel tight, but she has to do this. After this is done, her body can rest. The rune carved in her chest began to heat up as she focused her energy and then it turned cold once the spell started to work. She stills feel like herself, but she doesn't look like herself. Betty Fay isn't here. No, she looks like Ash for the time being and just in time too. Headlights swung around the curve, and she could smell burning rubber as the car screeched to a stop. The ugly green monstrosity is only a few feet away, and she watched as both doors creaked open.

"Are you okay?!" the passenger yelled as he stumbled out. She ran wide eyes over the kid, because she never thought she'd see him in person. Simon. The son of Eve and Elijah. The Nephilim that cannot be killed. His big brown eyes moved over her stolen form, as if looking for injuries, because Simon doesn't remember everything yet. He's been seeing flashes, and he'll remember it all soon enough. She wishes that he could be returned to the life that Gabriel created for him, the one where he's always safe and happy, but they all have destinies to fulfill.

"Stay away from him!" Betty's not really sure who Adam is yelling at, Simon or her, but he trapped Simon between his back and the front of the car. Simon tried to peek around Adam's shoulder, but John Winchester's youngest son kept him completely blocked. Interesting. Adam knows that Simon can't be killed and that he can very easily be killed, but he still wants to protect the Nephilim.

"You really gonna be like that, Adam?" Betty asked and propped her hands on her hips. It was strange to hear Ash's quiet drawl coming out of her mouth, and Adam narrowed his eyes.

"You're not Ash. He's dead and in Heaven. So who are you?" She knew that Adam wouldn't fall for it, but it doesn't really matter. He just doesn't need to know that it's her; she's already been too involved, and she doesn't need anyone snooping around. She has to keep Lucifer safe.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not here to hurt you. Just need to pass something along and then I'll be on my way." She shrugged and let her hands fall to her sides, and Adam tensed up even more. Definitely the paranoid type. Good. That'll keep him alive.

"What?" She pulled the bottle out of her pocket, opened the top, and tipped something out into her palm. A ring, with a silver band and white stone, fell into her palm. Death's ring. She's been carrying around Death's ring.

"You need to hold onto this, but you can't wear it. Sam and Dean will know what to do with it." She stretched her hand out and looked at the simple ring resting in Ash's callused palm, and she waited. If it was up to her, she'd send Simon to get the ring. Adam doesn't really know who she is, and Simon can't be killed. He's seen that with his own eyes. It was Adam that walked forward, which was only a little surprising at this point. Adam may hate the Winchester name, but he's not that different from his older brothers.

"Is it dangerous?" He was careful not to touch her as he picked up the ring, and Betty smiled.

"Only in the wrong hands. Keep it safe until you get to Bobby's." He tucked the ring into his pocket and started walking backwards, until he bumped into Simon.

"Am I free to go?" She nodded, and Adam pushed on Simon to get him moving. Adam stayed by his door until Simon was back in his seat, and she could see the confused look in his blue eyes as he looked over at her.

"See you around, brother!" she called out. Adam's jaw locked as he ducked into the car, and Betty moved onto the other side of the road so that he could drive by. Once the car was out of sight, she moved back to the dirt road. She shook off the glamour until she was back to herself, and her feet drug as she walked back to the Jeep.

"I'm assuming everything went okay?" Betty's arms shook as she pulled herself into the Jeep, and her body gave a violent shudder as she collapsed into the seat. Her fever has spiked into dangerous territory, and she's starting to feel cold.

"I just gave Death's ring to Adam," she said and locked her teeth together. Lucifer leaned up and shifted around until he could get his jacket off, and Betty hummed a little as he draped it over her. Her fingers clutched at the fabric to hold it against her, and she felt his knuckles brushing across her forehead.

"You're too warm."

"It'll pass." The Jeep started up, and she looked over at Lucifer. She wants to feel him, to know that he's still here and so is she, but she doesn't want to move her arms out of the jacket's warmth. She's going to have to sweat this fever out, and she feels so cold.

"They have all the rings now. What are they planning?" Lucifer's fingers curved around her thigh, just above her knee, and her body melted against the seat. She can relax now.

"I don't know yet, and I don't think they know either. I guess we'll find out when it's time. Do you remember the way home?" Her eyes are closed now, and she's so tired. She's earned some rest, hasn't she?

"I remember. Rest now, Betty Fay. I'll wake you up when we get home." She fanned the jacket out until she could find his hand, and she laced their fingers together before settling their joined hands on her upper thigh. She needs to know that she's still here; she doesn't want to get lost in her dreams.

"My guardian angel," she whispered and let herself fall.

* * *

**Finis:** Personally, I really love this chapter. I love the progression of Betty and Lucifer's relationship, the way they hate each other but still need each other. Writing for them will never not be fun, that's for sure. If you read _A Spoonful Of Grace_ before this chapter, I know a lot of things are repeated. It's just so that everything can be seen from both sides, and there's a little more information in this chapter that won't come out in the main story until its next chapter. Yeah, I think I said that right. As always, thank you to everyone reading!


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